Time Gone Awry
by xboxbabe
Summary: Stephanie and Ranger are flung into their greatest challenge when tragedy strikes unexpectedly by an unknown enemy. Can they save what's most precious to them and get their lives back to normal or will everything change forever? Babe HEA. No Morelli.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

Chapter 1

Until recently, no one would have accused me, Stephanie Plum, of having serious life goals, but more the opposite. Marrying young and having my heart broken soon after gave me some personal leeway to take a few steps back, free from being locked down into a life I wasn't sure I wanted. Since then, I've held off growing up too much. Acting like an adult leads to adult decisions and responsibility, two things I'd done well to avoid up to this point in my life.

But it turns out, there's something to be said for pushing yourself to be better all the time. It builds confidence, makes you get up at six when you want to sleep until nine, and even helps you fit into a smaller size. At least in my case. I finally faced facts that burying my head in the sand is a dangerous game to play, both personally and professionally, so I've started getting my life in order.

I'm still a bond enforcement agent for my cousin, Vincent Plum, but most of my work these days is through Rangeman. Though there are times I wonder if I should get out of bounty hunting altogether, I still love the thrill of the chase. I can't turn down a good mystery, even if it's dangerous — and it usually ends up that way with me.

I'm also still a hopeless sugar addict despite the physical changes I've made to my daily routine. Thank God I have good metabolism because I eat more like I'm six rather than thirty — or over thirty, a fact I firmly deny. Thirty and staying there.

Then there's Ranger Mañoso, the most unexpected detour from my immature ways. We've spent more time together in the past month and a half than the last couple of years, and it's safe to say we were finally in a real relationship.

What happened to Morelli? Thanks to Dave Brewer, my latest crazed stalker, I had gift cards totaling $12,000 for American Airlines (apparently he was crazy enough to think I'd fly away with him!) so at the end of June, I took a trip to Tahiti. Since I was confused about what, or rather who, I wanted at the time, I took Grandma Mazur with me. We stayed in a beautiful bungalow with an amazing ocean view, and avoiding Grandma Mazur in her string bikini meant I had lots of time to sit and think. The only hiccups were when she brought overnight guests to our cabana. I'd had to sleep with my head buried under my pillow, ear buds firmly shoved into my ears, and iPhone blasting death metal music.

Thanks to Grandma Bella's slutty voodoo, I'd slept with both Ranger and Morelli in the space of a week. When the curse broke, I thought my libido had gone along with it because neither man had appealed to me. Seriously, who could turn down either package of muscle, exotic skin tone, dark hair, and dark eyes?

In Tahiti, though, I realized the problem wasn't sexual, but mental. I'd started to think about what I wanted versus what I was offered. With Joe, I got a 'sometimes' relationship, but mostly companionship, with and without benefits. With Ranger, I got benefits, with a little friendship mixed in, and no relationship. At first, I'd thought maybe the best answer was to find someone new, but trading in the Italian Stallion and the Cuban Sex God for 'normal' just didn't seem fair.

I thought about what Joe wanted, and realized what he wanted meant a change to my core self, settling my wants and desires for what I could get. I was sad to find it didn't bother me too much to realize I'd never be his ideal woman, but merely waiting for him to tell me so and let me off the hook.

Then I thought about what Ranger wanted, and I realized I only had a very small idea about exactly what that was. On the surface, it looked easy. Work, work, work, and some sex thrown in. But how many times had the man told me he loved me? Still, it was frustrating to think about him on a deeper level with no feedback. Best to solve just one problem at a time.

So, when Morelli showed up at my apartment to welcome me home from my vacation, I was relieved to see him and grateful Mooner was there filching off my cable so he couldn't seduce me. Hey, I'd made a decision, but it's hard to turn down melted chocolate eyes and nimble fingers. Instead, I asked if he wanted Pino's.

When we got there, I told him what I thought about on the beach and the conclusions I'd made. I looked for signs that he didn't agree with me and saw none. He simply gave me a wistful smile and told me he'd tried to see it differently, but had known it, too.

"Bob's gonna miss your visits," he said.

I nudged his leg with my foot. "I'll still visit Bob, he's half mine."

The look he gave me told me he meant the other visits and I laughed lightly. "Okay, those will be hard to give up, but maybe you'll find your dream girl if you aren't getting me naked all the time."

He grinned, shoved pizza into his mouth, and nodded. That was the end of that. Well, almost. It happened to be July 4th so we'd gone to the Fireworks display at Rotary Park as we'd planned before my trip. We both drank a lot that night and I gave in one last time and got some of the best good-bye sex a girl could want. I would have regretted it, but we both knew it was over, so it was best to just enjoy it and move on.

A week later, he surprised me when he told me that he'd accepted a position at the 100th Precinct in Queens. "Vice," he said proudly. Since his favorite job had been on the Vice Squad in Trenton, the prospect of returning to that field was exciting for him, especially in a busy city like NYC.

"Leaving the Burg? It's hard to believe."

He nodded and hugged me. "I'm leaving tonight." Pulling back, he tucked a curl behind my ear. "I didn't want to leave without telling you, didn't want you to have to hear it from the grapevine."

"Wow," I said, feeling more emotional that I'd ever admit. "It's like the end of an era. Joe Morelli, gone from Trenton."

He looked down and then up, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. "Yeah. It's the job I want and a great way to start over." His face brightened and he said, "Well, hey, I gotta get going. I wanna meet everyone and look for a place to live. I'll be back to pack up the house and put it on the market next week, but it's easier this way. I want to be out of town when mom finds out."

I smiled over my sadness. "Smart man."

"Despite what she'll say, she didn't raise a fool." He paused and gave me a sad smile. "Take care, cupcake."

"Yeah, you, too."

A week after he left, Ranger had surprised me by asking me to dinner. It was the first time we'd gone out to a meal in a long time. With a devilish look, he'd said to, "Wear something nice."

I did and when he showed up, he was a combination of Business Ranger and Badass Ranger. He still had on the painted black t-shirt, but wore a charcoal sport jacket over it and a pair of matching slacks. I was glad I'd chosen a summery dress in ice blue and my favorite high-heeled sandals. Marc Jacobs, 70s style, wooden and leather. Very comfortable. Cost a fortune.

"Wow, what's the occasion?"

"Dinner with you. Thought you'd like to try something different."

Instinctively, I knew something had changed between the two of us, but didn't know what or why. After dinner, I went back to his place with him and I never looked back. The more time we spent together, the clearer it became that he wasn't walking away. I didn't want to explore things too closely, rather chose to go with my feelings and trust that I wouldn't regret it. Turns out, I never really had to worry.

About two weeks ago, a skip hit me in the head with a brick and it knocked me out. I woke in the hospital to see Ranger at my bedside, but it wasn't Badass Ranger or Business Ranger, it was Boyfriend Ranger. And he'd been worried. No, I hadn't needed explanations after that. No definition necessary. We were together and staying that way.

We'd even had our first fight as a couple then. Lucky for me, I woke up while the nurse was discussing the procedure with Ranger. I refused treatment, Ranger got angry, we had words. He wanted them to make sure my skull wasn't cracked and I wanted to get the hell out of there. Ultimately, I convinced him I'd come back in a heartbeat if there were any problems to indicate something more was wrong than a few loose brain cells. He hadn't been happy, but agreed anyway. Other than a headache and some minor fatigue, I've been fine; and I have a feeling the fatigue was due to frisky nights, not the brick.

Tonight, I looked at my reflection in my full-length mirror and pressed my lips together, smoothing out my lip gloss. We were going to Shorty's to hang out with the guys. The day after my overnight stay in the hospital, Ranger announced to his company that 'Rangeman Night' would begin on that upcoming Friday night and continue every Friday night after. Off-duty employees were welcome to join Ranger and Tank, the top management of Rangeman, for team socializing. The purpose was to give the guys a chance to see each other outside of work without the formalities of the office.

Last Friday night had gone well, and I was going again tonight at Ranger's insistence. Getting to know the guys casually made me more comfortable with them when I saw them at work this past week, whether bounty hunting or doing a part-time gig for the company. Sometimes I wondered if Ranger had invented Rangeman Night to acclimate me to the guys so I wouldn't be nervous asking for help the next time he's 'in the wind.' It wasn't likely I'd get an answer from him, so I never brought it up. Regardless, it had worked and I looked forward to seeing them tonight.

Though it was only the first week of September, we'd had an uncharacteristic cold spell the past few days. Tonight I was wearing jeans, black high-heeled boots, a white camisole, and a purple knit kimono-style pullover sweater with a deep V neckline. I left my hair down because Ranger liked it that way, and spritzed on some Dolce Vita.

I'd just slipped my lip gloss into my pocket when I heard the lock turn on my front door. No question who had come in. The new Bonds Office was finally open, so everyone had finally moved out of my apartment with the exception of Mooner periodically mooching off my cable.

Ranger appeared in my doorway thirty seconds later in his standard work gear of black, black, and black. The only variance, beginning in the last month or so, was the slight smile on his face as he walked up to me and traced a finger over the edge of my t-shirt. "You look comfortable. Very girly."

"Hmm," I teased, meeting his eyes in the mirror and tapping my chin in 'deliberation'. "Would you still want me if I was a badass military chick?"

His arms slid around my waist and his chin rested on my shoulder. He was silent while he 'thought' about his answer, so I nudged him with my elbow and watched his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Not sure I can comprehend that image."

"Uh-hunh." I elbowed him again and pulled away to lean into the mirror so I could swipe on another coat of mascara. "I'll be ready in a few."

"I'm a little late tonight." His way of telling me I didn't have as much time as he normally gave me. "Picked up the new car, bad traffic."

"Oh, nice," I said. I put the tube on my dresser beside the mirror, and turned to him. "Well, I'm ready, then." I wanted to see this car. He said I'd like it.

He slid his hands around my waist and kissed me all in one smooth motion. I was never prepared for the rush of heat induced by the touch of his mouth on mine. I gasped and opened my mouth to his kiss. He intensified the pressure and continued until our breathing changed from normal to heavy.

A few wild heartbeats later, he pulled away, slowly, kissing the tip of my nose. "Too easy to get carried away," he said quietly. I nodded and looked at myself in the mirror. Lip gloss all gone, lips swollen. I looked at Ranger. None on him. How did he manage it?

His lips twitched as if he read my thoughts. I pulled out the tube and applied a fresh coating and rubbed my lips together again. "Now I look like I've been making out with you all night."

"It can be arranged."

A shot of heat went straight to my pelvis. "Maybe we should beg off tonight."

He leaned forward and nipped at my earlobe. "Can't."

If Ranger was anything, he was a good example. Rangeman Night was for his employees, the one night he devoted his time to them. It was important for him to be there. We didn't stay the whole evening last week and I didn't expect we would tonight, but we had to make an appearance.

"Okay, let's do this thing." He grabbed my hand and turned to tug me out of the room. Outside the bedroom door, I stopped and pulled my hand from his. "Wait, I need to spray my hair or it will frizz out. Be just a second."

"Sorry, babe." He bent at the waist, scooping me up over his shoulder, and headed for the front door.

"Ugh, hey! I need to spray my hair!"

"No time."

"Fine, but you will have to live with the consequences when my hair starts resembling the Bride of Frankenstein."

"You know I love your hair."

I sighed dramatically. No point arguing with him, he wouldn't listen. We were on his time right now.

He skipped the elevator, as I'd known he would, and jogged down the stairs, jostling me against his shoulder and giving my butt a swat when I wiggled to get more comfortable. "Ouch!"

"More of that later."

My hormones did a little happy dance. "Promises, promises."

Out in the parking lot, he walked a few steps, then set me down on the asphalt beside the car. I looked at it, gleaming in the fluorescent lights. It was black, sleek, and powerful looking. I looked up at him. "What is it?"

His eyes crinkled again. "McLaren Roadster."

"And," I paused, cocking my head to the side, "that's supposed to be a great car?"

"Just a little."

"Well, if you say so." He slid his eyes over to look at me without turning his head and I bit back a smile. I loved joking with him. I loved being close to him. In fact, I loved him. We hadn't said the words to each other, but we knew they were there. Despite the fact that he'd told me he loved me in the past, this was different. It'd be a whole new ball game if he said it now; or if I said it, especially so. We were too busy enjoying just _being _together to start getting all mushy. We had all the time in the world to talk. Someday.

"Babe." I turned my head toward him, finding his gaze full on me. "Me, too." My breath caught and he leaned in, sealing the sentiment with a kiss. I loved his ESP, too.

After a minute, I smiled against his lips and he smiled back. "We're gonna be late," I mumbled, my lips and tongue brushing his mouth.

"Not in this car," but he pulled back and walked me around to the passenger side to open the door for me. I clipped myself in and then fixed my lip gloss again.

When he started the car, I knew immediately why he said I'd love it. Rich, deep vibrations rumbled under the seat from the engine's powerful purr. "Oh," I said.

"Told you." He could be so smug sometimes.

We left my parking lot and I thought he'd slipped into his driving zone, when he said, "I've been thinking about the trouble at your parents' last week."

I mentally groaned. Dad had refused to eat at the same table as Grandma because she'd mortified him by wearing a _very _transparent black negligee to dinner. The next day he told my mother he wanted Grandma out of the house and they'd been arguing about it since. "I'm not sure what they're going to do. Neither party is giving in." Meaning my parents. My Grandma seems hell bent on driving my dad crazier each day.

His response was a very slight smile. Then it vanished and he glanced at me. "Maybe she needs a place closer to others her own age."

I nodded. He was right, but affording it was a problem for her and my parents.

"You could move in with me, see how it goes."

I didn't react for a few seconds, mostly because I wasn't sure he'd said what I thought I'd heard.

"It doesn't have to be permanent if you don't want," he explained. "Just a trial."

I blinked. "Wait, does that mean you _want_ it to be permanent?" Ugh! Of all the things I could have asked, that was the dumbest…

"Yes."

…or smartest. I looked at him, my mouth agape. "You want me to move into your apartment, with you, for good? And give Grandma my apartment?"

"Babe."

"I need some clarification here."

"Simple," he said. "Things are better when we're together."

"Better enough to want it to be permanent."

He slowed to turn a corner. "Definitely."

"Wow," I breathed.

"You don't have to tell me tonight. I sprang it on you." The way his jaw tightened and his shoulders tensed told me it had cost him more to ask than I realized. Told me it meant far more than he wanted to let on. Double wow.

Was I ready for that? Crap, I wasn't good with this stuff. I thought about how it took me hours to fall asleep at night when he left me — on nights he didn't actually stay. How I thought it was much better to wake up in his arms than alone. About how he wouldn't expect me to change just because we'd moved to the next step. And that was the winner.

"Okay. I think it's a good idea."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He pulled the car off the side of the road and popped the shifter to neutral, pulling up the emergency break. Then he leaned across the center console and cupped my face in his hands, leaning in. I expected hungry passion by the look in his eyes. What I got was a kiss full of tenderness and devotion. It was the kind of kiss that brought tears to a person's eyes. If I were the type to cry. For a new car, it was sure dusty, though.

I blinked several times and surrendered myself to him, feeling my heart thump harder and harder as the kiss lingered. I slid my hands into his newly shortened hair, feeling the silky texture against my fingers. He'd had to cut it off a couple of weeks ago for a meeting he couldn't tell me about and, though I missed the length, it was nice to be able to run my fingers through it without the barrier of his hair tie.

He eased away, kissing me lightly once more before he leaned back, then finally raised his head. I blinked and tried to focus on his face. Then I smiled. "I guess you're happy."

"A little," he said just above a whisper, a full smile on his face. "We'd better go."

"Sure you don't want to call Tank and cancel, or postpone?"

He stared a full minute and smiled, all 200 watts. "You're a temptress."

I let out a loud sigh. "Fine, drive us there, oh great one."

"I'll show you great later." Wonderful. Trouble was, I wanted _great _now.

When we got to Shorty's, the lot was full and Ranger had to park further away from the door than normal. "I guess I'm messing up your parking spot karma."

He scooped me over his shoulder again, running to the door. "No, but you do make me tardy."

"I can't believe you just said tardy!" I laughed. He dodged around cars and I gripped his shirt with both hands, trying to keep from swinging wildly from side to side. "You're crazy!"

Ranger stopped suddenly and lowered my feet to the ground. I looked up and saw the door to Shorty's to my left. He gave me a quick kiss before grabbing the handle. "Only crazy about you."

…

"…and Ram was out back…" Lester stopped to guffaw. "God, when that woman came diving out the door at him, all I heard was 'Oh shit' then a thud. He made this squeaky, strangled noise," more laughter from around the table, "man he was out of it. Started mumbling something about his spleen."

"Dude, she must've been 800 pounds. I saw my life flash before my eyes when she ran outta there. Now I think about it, I'm impressed. She moved fast for her size." Ram shook his head.

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye with a final laugh and swallowed some of my beer. "Glad she was your skip. Not sure I could have taken a hit like that."

"The nude part was worst," Ram said. "I couldn't free my face from her melons. Thought I was going to suffocate." More laughter rang out from the table and Ram turned red from the bottom of his neck to the top of his ears.

Tank shook his head and laughed silently beside Ranger. "Ram, I don't know what's funnier. Your judgment of weight or the way Lester said you screamed at him to get her up off you." He set down his beer. "Way I heard it, the woman didn't even weigh 200 pounds. More like 180. You need glasses. And maybe to lift more weights. A man your size shouldn't bellyache like that for less than 400."

"It was more than that," Ram insisted and the guys busted up laughing again.

"Whew," I breathed in an effort to calm down. It was getting warm in here and my sweater wasn't helping.

"How's work going for you, Blue Eyes?" Lester asked, changing the subject with a wink. "Haven't heard any crazy stories lately."

"Well, I guess you must be training me well, then. I even got Punky in without too much hassle the other day. Though, to be fair, he was pretty sick. I don't think he had it in him to taunt me." I grinned and sipped my beer. "Work's good, though Vinnie's driving us all insane."

"Not surprising," Hal muttered. He wasn't a fan of Vinnie. Between the duck and Joyce, he'd drawn the line on Vinnie stories. "Harry and Lucille both having a boot on his balls is probably cramping his style."

The guys murmured their agreement and I nodded, taking another sip of my beer.

It was strange seeing Vinnie behave. He hadn't tried to boink Joyce for at least five months, if not longer. Ever since Harry found out about Vinnie's "bad habits", Vinnie had been living in fear. Though, I couldn't believe he was boinking Lucille, either, with all the whining she'd reportedly been doing lately.

"That guy's a freak," Bobby said.

I grinned in agreement with Bobby; Vinnie is definitely a freak. Just this morning he went ape shit about who knows what, screaming at Lucille over the phone that she was crazy and he wasn't budging. Then Lucille said something to Vinnie that made his face turn red with fiery rage and he hung up on her. He mumbled something about having better luck at the dog pound and I stopped listening.

"Definitely not on my favorite persons list," Ranger said. He slipped his arm around my waist and squeezed. "Wanna head out?" he whispered into my ear.

"Sure," I mumbled quietly.

"Have a good one tomorrow," he said to the guys as he stood.

"Night, Boss."

"Later, Sweetness."

"Boss, Blue Eyes."

We finished the 'Night, John Boy' routine and walked out to Ranger's car, hand in hand. Ranger held my door for me again and then drove back to my apartment. I glanced at him when we turned my corner. Normally, he tried to get me to his place as often as possible.

He twitched a smile at me. "I thought if I stayed the night, we could get an early start packing tomorrow."

I groaned. "Oh, how wonderful for you to make me get up early on a Saturday…"

He squeezed my knee and I stuck my tongue out at him. It was easier to complain about the early start time than to think about all of the changes we were making tomorrow. I hadn't realized he'd want to move that quickly, but also wasn't surprised. I was ready, so it seemed pointless to wait. He evidently felt the same.

When we got to my door, he wrapped my arms around his neck then slid his hands beneath my butt, holding me tight against him as he walked us into my apartment. I moaned softly and stopped short when his body tensed. "What's wrong?"

Then I heard the TV. Oh no. I turned my head and saw Mooner sitting on my couch, staring at us with a silly grin on his face. Ugh. "Mooner, what are you doing in here?"

"_I __Dream __of __Jeannie_ marathon. Your cable is better than mine."

I gaped at him, trying to get my mouth to work to tell him to leave when Ranger looked at him and said, "Out."

"Dude, it's right in the middle of the episode where Major Nelson—" He broke off when Ranger let go of me, crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrow. "Going. Be gone faster than Jeannie can blink and nod." He switched off the TV and shoved his feet into his tennis shoes while he spoke.

I'd never seen Mooner move so quickly in all the time I knew him. As soon as he was gone, I jumped into Ranger's arms and wrapped my legs around him. He turned us to pin me against the door and pushed up my sweater, sliding his hands up my abdomen beneath my camisole to cup my breasts.

His phone rang and we both stilled. "Fuck," I whispered. Or _no __fuck_ was more like it. That was Tank's ring tone.

His eyes met mine, full of regret. "Babe."

"Go." I knew Tank wouldn't call unless absolutely necessary. I also knew Ranger would make it up to me tenfold. I _was_ frustrated, regardless.

Ranger answered his phone and, in typical fashion, carried a full conversation with Tank in less than ten words. When he hung up, he turned to me and caressed my cheek while he spoke. "Anderson showed up at Shorty's. We need to move on him."

"It's okay. There's always Sunday." One thing I tried never to do was resent the time work took him away and he tried never to let work take him away on Sundays. So far, it had worked out quite well. "Besides, if you let me go to sleep now, I might get up to help pack in the morning."

We smiled at each other and he pressed his body to mine as he kissed me one last time then backed up with a curse. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay," I said.

He gave me a long look before he turned and left. I sighed and smiled before locking the door and headed toward bed with thoughts of tomorrow morning on my mind.

…

_A/N: Whew! I can't believe I'm finally posting this story. I first wrote it in the last half of 2009, but needed to take time to fix plot holes. Now, two years later, I'm finally getting it out there for everyone to read._

_A major thank you to Rach for her patience and excellent editorial skills. If not for her, this story never would have been posted because I've become so frustrated with it since I started it, that I was ready to delete it. Not only has she proved to have a great eye for plot, but she's become a cherished friend. It's been a long road, Rach, but I'm so glad we walked it together, babe._

_My plan was to start posting this in August, but we were delayed. Normally I don't post more than twice per week, but this story will go up three times per week on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday nights._

_I'll only mention reviews in that I love them because they help me write better. I'm open to suggestions and love hearing what readers like. Whether you review or not, I hope you enjoy reading this story._

_There are no Cupcake warnings. Joe is not a player in this story, though he is mentioned a couple of times, but respectfully._

_Happy reading everyone!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: I know for some of you it isn't Wednesday, yet, but it is for me. Since I will have a somewhat hectic day tomorrow, here is chapter 2._

…

Chapter 2

I woke up slowly the next morning, drifting out of an unsettling hospital dream, which sadly was more like a recurring nightmare. Then I remembered that, at some point in the night, I'd also dreamed Rex had turned into a pro football player, but they'd had to fire him because he kept gnawing on the ball. Weird dreams were a way of life for me.

I'd half expected Ranger to tease me awake like normal, but he was sound asleep behind me. I smiled, thinking maybe he was so tired from working late that he'd let me sleep in today. He could have told Tank not to expect him at the office until mid-morning. There was a chance I'd walk out into my living room and find a money tree growing in the center of the floor.

Through the sleepy haze in my groggy mind, I remembered our conversation on the way to Shorty's. Moving day! My stomach flip-flopped and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. Breathe. This was what I wanted and it was the right thing to do. I was growing up and in an actual adult relationship. But wow, he wanted it permanent. This was serious. Very serious. And I was actually happy about it.

With a big smile on my face, I cuddled into the mattress and stopped short, wrinkling my nose. It didn't smell or feel right. I'd purposely spent money on a good mattress. After all, good mattresses equal good sleep and I enjoyed my slumber. Instead of the thick, firm mattress I expected, I found one that was thin and insubstantial, with a strange 'old cheese' odor. What the hell?

I opened my eyes and a splitting headache fritzed out my vision, so I quickly shut them again. Concussion, maybe? I thought about the brick and wondered if now, after two weeks, I was finally having complications from the injury. Cripes, I hated concussions, especially when I wasn't sure of their source. I listened for the telltale sound of beeping monitors and the squeaking shoes of nurses hard at work, but all I heard was breathing and a light snore here and there. Great, not only was I in a strange place, but I wasn't alone. Wide awake, now, with alarm bells clanging in my head, I mentally retraced my night, but it was no use. The last conscious memory I had was the image of Ranger staring at me with that slight smile on his face, then walking out the door.

When my head settled again, I chanced a peek through one eyelid to view my surroundings. I knew immediately I wasn't in a hospital. The room was large with two, no three if I counted mine, identical wooden bunk beds, six single beds in total. I saw lumps under the covers in each. An upward flick of my eyes revealed depressed springs in the bed overhead, proving it was also occupied. Slowly, I lifted my head and noticed I was the only one awake. The room was dim. There was one small window covered by a dark blue curtain. The light at the edges, however, appeared to be bright so I had no idea of the time. Still, with everyone in the room asleep, I couldn't believe it'd be very late in the morning.

My greatest worry right now, aside from waking in this strange place, was that the warm body beside me wasn't Ranger — because it didn't _feel _like Ranger. I closed my eyes and forced in my next breath, blew it out, then took another. I turned my head slowly, chanting over and over, 'Please be Ranger, please be Ranger.'

I opened my eyes and two truths jumped out at me, neither making me feel very secure. One, it wasn't Ranger. Two, I didn't know this guy. I clamped down on my very strong desire to jump out of the bed and forced myself to think fast. Waking him up might be bad. I didn't know where I was, didn't know why I was with him, but I wanted to get _away _without trouble.

Panic flitted down my spine and my heart lodged in my throat as I began to edge away from him. Slowly, I lifted his arm from around my waist and slid forward until I was balanced on the very edge of the bed. I stuck my foot out in front of me and braced it against the floor, leaning forward so I fell onto all fours on the thin, industrial carpet with a soft thud. I panted as quietly as I could against a surge of adrenaline when I was finally out of the bed and away from him. Then I sat up, forcing myself to ignore my quaking nerves and focus on the situation.

I was fully clothed, thank God, but not in the same outfit from last night. Instead of my jeans, cami, and sweater, I wore jean capris and a pale blue t-shirt. My skin crawled. It was creepy to think of someone, especially this strange man, undressing and redressing me while I was unconscious. My feet were bare, but there was a pair of beige sandals with a slight wedge heel on the floor that looked my size. I slipped them on and looked at my bedmate.

He was young, possibly early 20s, dressed in a neon tie-dyed t-shirt, which was all I could see of his clothing. He had dark blonde hair done in dreadlocks all tied back at the nape of his neck and a very thin goatee. It showed his face was still changing from boy to man. His lips were full and a natural, healthy red. He slept with his mouth slightly open, but was a quiet breather. His thin arms were long and gangly. He was probably a vegetarian, maybe even a vegan. I wrinkled my nose. At least he looked like a normal, average young hippie-type.

My intuition told me there was no way he'd brought me to this place. The room was like a dorm room at summer camp. Well, a summer camp for adults. These people were here to sleep, some with knapsacks wrapped tight in their arms most likely to protect them from theft. Given my past, waking up in a place like this seemed very 'Stephanie Plum', but why were _they_ here? Had we all been kidnapped? Were we being held here for some crazy purpose? My mind reeled with wild scenarios, all bad. Human slave trade was at the top of the list.

I wanted to look out the window, but it was in the center of one of the bunk beds and I wouldn't be able to do so without waking the occupants. I didn't _think _my neighbors posed a threat, but I decided going out to explore was the better option. A quick lurch of anxiety hit my gut at the decision, trying to make a bid for control of my emotions, but I tamped it down and rose to my feet soundlessly. There were no visible chains or handcuffs, though the one door leading out certainly could be locked. I hoped not.

Why was I here? A prank? I wouldn't put something like this past Lester. He'd threatened that one day I might find a surprise in my training. The 'always be aware of your surroundings' speech was ever present on his tongue. So, prank or not, I could do this. I looked at the door and swallowed a few times. I told myself to just go through the door and pay attention to everything.

Running a hand over my wild bed head hair, I resisted a shudder as my fingers caught in what felt like a rat's nest. It wasn't until I moved my hand to tuck the fuzzy mass behind my ears that I noticed the shorter length. I gasped and ran my fingers frantically over my head, using my fingers to judge the length. My hair ended just at the base of my neck and seemed to be evenly shaped all over in a wild mass of curls. I closed my eyes and counted to three. Someone. had. cut. my. hair! I would not scream. I would _not_ scream_._

My hands lowered from my head on their own, as if they didn't want to bear witness to the crime. I opened my eyes, setting my jaw. It was hair, it would grow back. Right now, I had bigger problems to tackle. First, I needed money, and a cell phone would be good, too.

I bent low and looked under the bed and then stood up and scanned beneath each of the other beds for anything I could use. There was no purse under my bed, confirming my suspicions that I was left here with nothing. I hated the idea of stealing, but I could only assume I was here with just the clothes on my back and the sandals. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be sleeping with their stuff. There was no way I was going there. Grabbing an unattended bag under a bed I could probably fudge. Wrestling someone's belongings from their arms, not so much.

Ignoring the questions buzzing through my brain, I tiptoed to the door. It was wooden and painted white. The handle was a thick, silver metal lever. I gripped it and quietly turned it, hearing the catch release, and swung the door open. It squeaked and I froze, breathing in and out twice, then glanced back at the beds. No one stirred. I blew out my breath and gave myself a mental pep talk: I am confident. I can do this. I'd gotten myself out of tougher scrapes. This is no big deal. Right.

I stepped through the door, pulling it shut quickly with the handle still turned, only releasing the latch once it was fully closed. The squeak was quieter that time. There were no noises or sounds of life from the room on the other side of the door, so I decided I'd pulled off my escape. At least that part of it. I turned and looked around. A long hallway stretched down and turned off to the right.

There were two other doors in the hall, one a little ways down on the opposite wall, and another further down on the same side as this door. I went to the nearest door and quietly squeaked it open and saw a mirror image to what I'd begun to think of as 'my' room. The beds were all empty. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Quickly closing the door, I went to the next door down the hall and swung it open as quietly as possible. A bathroom. Not only that, but it looked like a communal bathroom with three toilet stalls, two shower stalls, three sinks, and a long mirror with a white wooden shelf beneath. I half expected a bugle to wake up the building at any minute. Very campy.

I left the bathroom and snuck down the hall and around the bend. At the end of that short corridor was another white wooden door with the same type of lever. I held my breath and turned it, praying it wasn't locked. My breath whooshed out in relief when the handle turned and I was able to pull the door open.

On the other side was a large common area. To the right, situated back in a cubby, was a small seating area with two frayed armchairs and a coffee table laden with magazines. Across the room were four round tables with four chairs at each. The wall opened to another room. By the industrial tile on the floor, I guessed it to be a kitchen. A TV was mounted up near the ceiling in the corner by the kitchen doorway. No sign of bad guys, but no great clues either.

My eyes landed on the front door. Almost free. I looked around and walked toward the front door, half expecting someone, possibly armed, to jump out and yell 'Stop!' But the closer I got, none of that happened. The place was deserted aside from the people sleeping in my room. I was curious as to why there wasn't anyone around, but not complaining.

I studied the door when I reached it. It was a standard glass door with a bar across the middle indicating that it pushed outward. There were bells attached to the top that would jingle as soon as I moved it and I bit my lip, thinking. What would Ranger do?

Oh God. I hadn't allowed myself to focus on him up to this point. Getting out had been my biggest problem, but now my thoughts turned to him. What if he thought I'd run away, not wanting to move in with him? I'd have to do a lot of begging when I made it out of this mess. The memory of the stiffness in his neck and shoulders when he'd suggested the move made me cringe. He'd taken a big risk putting himself out there and I'd hesitated, too. It wasn't the kind of thing he did and clearly meant a lot to him. If he thought I'd flaked out…

I shook my head. Didn't do any good to worry about it right now. I had to figure out where I was and get home. Then I could beg and explain. I hoped. One thing at a time. First, focus on the goal.

Gently, I pushed the door open after reaching up to tuck the bells above the door frame to keep them silent. I looked back into the room and still saw no one. I breathed in and out, relieved, and pushed it open far enough so I could slip out, all the while hoping it wasn't too cold since I had no jacket.

The sun blinded me as I stepped out and a sticky city heat blasted me. Definitely not cold, ugh. I turned around to look at the stone building I'd exited and saw a white sign that read 'Hostel de la Cité' on the front in red scroll lettering. Hostel?

My eye caught the sign on the building next door. My mouth went slack when I saw 'Bonjour Café', not because the name was particularly weird, but because I knew 'bonjour' was French. If the café sign was French and the hostel's sign was French, then I definitely wasn't in Jersey anymore. Damn, was I in a French-speaking province in Canada? Whatever city this was, it was big and it was hot, and it had much more character than Trenton.

If I had to cross the border, better Canada than Mexico. For one thing, Canada really wasn't that far from home. Talking to people would be a problem if it _was _a French-speaking area, which meant getting home would be more of a challenge. I could do it, though.

I shifted uncomfortably under the sweltering sun and scowled up at it. The weather seemed hot enough for Mexico, though. Just my luck to get a heat spell in September, and here I was without a beach or a bathing suit. I put my free hand on my hip and looked left and right, trying to pick a direction, but stopped in awe when I caught sight of the traffic. A dense population of vehicles and motorbikes drove by at speeds insane for such a busy little street. Not to mention the pedestrians on the designated crosswalks who clearly expected the traffic to stop for them.

In horror, I watched while the cars and small bikes wove in and out between each other as if in a race, slamming on breaks when the traffic slowed. I saw so many near misses in that minute or so I thought for sure there'd be an accident. Further down the street, the scariest traffic merging fiasco I had ever witnessed buzzed like an angry hive of hornets and I hoped my little adventure here didn't include an attempt to drive any type of motorized vehicle.

I turned right because it was a slight downhill slope and looked easier. After a few steps, my stomach started to grumble and I sighed, checking my pockets for cash, just in case, but finding only lint. My teeth caught my lower lip as I gazed around, scoping out the lay of the land. Food smells taunted me and my stomach ached with each new, yummy scent.

I desperately wished for a handbook entitled 'Abandoned Person's Guide to Avoiding Starvation'. Only one word came to mind: beg. I bit back a groan of frustration and continued down the sidewalk, beginning to sweat in the heat, keeping my eyes peeled for a phone booth — if any still existed in this day and age. I had to call Ranger, and fast. Not because I needed rescuing, but I needed food. Okay, rescuing didn't sound bad and calling him wouldn't mean I was incapable of surviving on my own, right?

The shops around were all open, so I knew it couldn't be too early in the morning. That thought made me wonder why all those people in the room were still sleeping. Were they together? Had they been out late sampling the local night life? I set the questions aside for now because they weren't important to my predicament and tried to determine what shop looked tourist friendly. Then, stopping short, I saw something that both amazed and terrified me. The scene between the buildings had opened up and there, rising up in all its glory, was the Eiffel Tower.

My brain froze, disbelief shutting down all of my thoughts for several long seconds. When the shock passed, I thought, 'Paris. How could I be in Paris?' Worse, how messed up was it that I was here and _not _happy about it? Not. at. all. Paris should be exciting and romantic, magical even, but given the circumstance, it felt sinister and scary. I had to find a phone, and fast.

My wild imagination filled my head with crazy thoughts. The panic from earlier returned and my chest tightened in response. Suddenly, my mind screeched to a halt again. What if it was a surprise disguised as a prank? Ranger had asked me to move in with him. He could have arranged for a romantic getaway to Paris. Maybe one of the guys was supposed to meet me outside the room to take me to him, but I'd woken too early. Now I'd left and they'd never find me and … and…

My shoulders slumped. I knew there was no way Ranger would do that to me. If he wanted to surprise me, I'd wake in some luxurious Parisian hotel and find him waiting with a lavish breakfast, or even better, naked. Damn, now I was lost, alone, _and_ missing naked Ranger. Focus, Stephanie.

I started walking again, keeping an eye out for a shop with few customers, and thought about all the implications of my presence in Paris. I went back to my original thought of being kidnapped. I hadn't had any psycho FTA's lately, and all the creeps from my past were either dead or locked up. Or at least I thought so. But why kidnap me just to dump me off? Maybe something had gone wrong. And how had someone flown me across the Atlantic without my knowledge? I considered the possibility of powerful knockout drugs, which was an unpleasant alternative.

Without any clues, I was getting nowhere fast with my thoughts, except more worried. Instead, I replayed images from last night in my head. Ranger's happiness when I agreed to move in with him. The ease with which he talked to the guys made him seem almost _lighthearted _somehow. Though it was a subtle change, I'd felt it. The 'Me, too' he'd said when I'd been thinking how much I loved him had warmed my heart, and still did even now. The regret in his eyes when Tank called had been genuine, and the smile he'd given me before he left? Full of promise.

I shuddered when I thought of Ranger finding me missing from my apartment. He'd know I hadn't left him willingly and have all of Trenton in an uproar. I remembered the poor woman he'd yanked out of bed to get Stiva's address when the crazy man had kidnapped me. Or worse, what if he'd already come back to my apartment before I was kidnapped? Which meant he'd have to be hurt, or… No. That wasn't an option I'd even consider.

Damn, I needed more than a phone. I had to get to the American Embassy. With no purse, I knew there was no passport. No passport, no return. And I wanted to return, needed to return, so Trenton could be safe from his wrath. The Embassy would help me. First, get directions. Second, go there. Third, ask to call home and stop the insane search. Easy. Straightforward. How could I possibly mess that up?

I looked around for a cop, but as usual, they're never around when you need them. I raised my hands to my hair, but lowered them quickly. One more thing I didn't want to deal with. As I lowered my hands, I noticed the door to the shop in front of me was slightly ajar. I went inside and hoped I didn't have to stumble through miming what I needed. Not wanting to seem rude, I looked at the merchandise on a few shelves and then moved toward the counter. On every shelf was a small figurine or sculpture. Parisian landmarks, French flags, mini Eiffel Towers, and water globes were lined up neatly in rows behind posted price markers. A tourist shop. I hoped that was a lucky sign.

When I reached the counter, a slim man came into the store from the back. He was middle-aged and nearly my height with a friendly smile and a pleasant manner of speaking. His words were lost in translation for obvious reasons, but his kindness couldn't be mistaken. When he noticed my look of confusion, he stopped and waited for me to speak.

I gave him an apologetic smile and asked, "Do you speak English?"

A wide smile nearly filled his face. "_Oui_." I understood that word. He came around the counter to stand in front of me, studying me.

Despite myself, I felt my eyes water and had to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep my lips from trembling. Stupid dust. "Could," my voice cracked and I cleared my throat. "Could you tell me how to get to the American Embassy?"

He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked up onto his toes, then back down. "Ah, you are from America." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"I have always wanted to see New York City." He smiled. "Maybe someday, yes?"

I smiled, feeling encouraged, and said, "It'll be a worthwhile trip." I looked around the store feeling awkward and, in an attempt at small talk, said, "I've always wanted to see Paris."

His sharp eyes narrowed slightly. "But not today."

I blew out a breath and gave a short laugh while I slid my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, lowering my head for a second and looking back up to meet his eyes. "That obvious, huh?"

He crossed his arms and regarded me for a moment before answering. "I do not want to upset you, but you look lost. In here." He gestured around the shop. Then he smiled a little. "And up here." He raised his hand to tap his temple with an index finger.

"You have no idea." I immediately liked him and put out my hand. "My name is Stephanie. Stephanie Plum."

He took my hand in his and raised it, saying, "I am Jean Philippe Beaumont and I am pleased to meet you." He pressed his warm, gentle lips to the back of my hand and then released it. "Of course, I will escort you to the Embassy."

"Thank you for offering, but I can't ask you to—"

"I will be just one moment, wait here." He left me with my mouth hanging open and went through a small door at the back of the shop. It seemed I was getting an escort whether I wanted one or not. Well, I did want one, but I didn't want him to have to abandon his shop to do it.

He returned a minute later and went behind the counter to lock the cash register with a key he produced from his pocket. When he was done, he looked up at me with a wide smile. "I have not been out for a walk today. Excellent timing."

This he said for my benefit and I appreciated it. I was also thankful to have a guide. Knowing my track record, I'd have been lost within minutes. "I appreciate the offer. Thank you."

"Come, Stephanie," he said, tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow. "I will show you some of Paris on the way to the Embassy. Perhaps your visit will be a happy memory, yet."

While we walked, he talked. I listened and tried not to think about the why's and how's of my predicament. I wanted to pretend that I was just a tourist getting a personal tour from a good friend. He pointed out several places along the way. That was a good café, wonderful soups. This bakery had the best breads. We don't shop here, the owner overcharges his customers. He used 'we' a lot, so I assumed there was a Mrs. Beaumont.

He stopped talking for a minute, sliding a glance at me from the corner of his eyes. Then he said, "Your mind is busy. Have you lost your travel group, then?"

I hesitated for a second before deciding it couldn't hurt to tell him the truth. "This will sound crazy, but I have no idea how I got here. Last night I went to bed at home, in Trenton, New Jersey — which is not far from New York City — and this morning I woke here and … I have no idea how it's even possible."

I don't know what I expected, but the absolute shock on his face was a surprise. A pained look fixed itself on his fine features and he patted my hand, looking away for a few minutes, still leading me along down the sidewalk.

I continued my story. "My, uh, boyfriend was supposed to come help me move into his place this morning." I knew there were bigger issues to focus on, but the affront to my happiness with Ranger seemed the easiest target. My mouth having a mind of its own, I rambled on, "Instead, I woke up across the ocean with no recollection of ever leaving my apartment, let alone my country. And I just know he's putting the whole city through hell trying to find me, so I've got to get back."

He swiveled his head around to look at me, a little skeptical. "He will terrorize your city, you say?"

"Well," I laughed nervously. "Just about. I know because he's sort of done it before."

"He must care for you very much."

"Yes," I said unable to keep from smiling at the memories from last night. Then I remembered where I was. "He hates when I go missing."

He stopped walking and stared at me. "You disappear often?"

I thought about it and realized the answer was a bit pathetic. I felt better that most of my kidnapping mishaps happened before I'd begun training with Lester, but this trip to Paris practically topped the 'Stephanie's Top Ten Disasters' chart. "Actually … yes. I have a dangerous job and people don't like it when I'm successful."

"I do not understand."

"I'm a bounty hunter. I look for people who run away from the courts and take them back to jail." I spread my hands out in a 'that's it' gesture and he nodded.

His expression was unreadable while he thought. "You do not know when someone wants to harm you?"

"I usually do know beforehand, actually. There's usually an attempt to scare me, maybe a few, before they finally get to the kidnapping part."

He shook his head in disbelief, but said, "So, this was different."

"Yes, and very effective," I murmured and looked at him, "I really have to get home."

A determined look entered his eyes. "We will see what can be done."

...

_A/N: I know ... Stephanie and Ranger, what happened? Stick with me for a couple of chapters and I promise things will become clearer!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

From Chapter 2:

_His expression was unreadable while he thought. "You do not know when someone wants to harm you?"_

_"I usually do know beforehand, actually. There's usually an attempt to scare me, maybe a few, before they finally get to the kidnapping part."_

_He shook his head in disbelief, but said, "So, this was different."_

_"Yes, and very effective," I murmured and looked at him, "I really have to get home."_

_A determined look entered his eyes. "We will see what can be done."_

...

Chapter 3

Every road Jean Philippe led us down had a café or food vendor of sorts. My traitorous stomach roared angrily and I averted my face in utter embarrassment. The truth was that passing out from hunger seemed entirely likely.

"Ah, your stomach has good taste." He gestured to our left and said, "This café has a fine breakfast menu. You will join me?"

When he put it that way, how could I refuse? "Thanks, I've never had French food before." Unless you counted French fries and French toast.

He chuckled while he pulled out a chair from a table a few feet away. "Then you will live to regret it, I am afraid." My face must have betrayed my confusion because he laughed fully and said, "There is no better cuisine, you will miss it when you leave. Of course, I am biased."

"We'll see. My mother's pineapple upside down cake is hard to beat."

A waiter appeared then and Jean Philippe ordered food for me in French, speaking in a clear, decisive tone to the waiter. The food came out lightning quick and I stared at Jean Philippe with wide eyes. His ability to get fast service rivaled Ranger's.

Jean Philippe smiled. "I told him my beautiful companion needed food immediately."

Embarrassed, I looked down at the platter trying to decide where to start. There were hard rolls and croissants with jam and real butter, fruit, yogurt, a carafe of coffee with a little silver pot of milk and matching dish full of sugar packets. I grabbed a roll and slathered it with some butter, adding jam on top, and then tore into it, sighing with relief as soon as I swallowed. Now that my brain could function a little better, I cocked my head to the side and said, "Your English is very good. Does everyone here speak English?" I'd been under the impression that it would have been difficult to get past the language barrier.

He smiled. "I used to teach English. I left my profession a few years ago and bought my shop. I don't speak it often anymore and it is true what they say: what is not used is lost, yes?"

I grinned. "Use it or lose it?"

"That is it! And no, not everyone here speaks English, but there are those who do and will pretend they do not. Paris can be tricky for the tourist."

So maybe I'd been right after all. We were silent for a while as I literally stuffed my face and he sipped the strong coffee he'd ordered for himself. The smell tantalized my nostrils. It had a warm, rich aroma and, even though I was slightly overheated, I poured myself a cup and doctored it up with plenty of cream and sugar.

While I buttered my next roll, he said, "It is okay to be afraid, Stephanie."

I looked away from him and watched the hustle and bustle of the late morning crowd while I took my first sip of coffee, relishing the dark, slightly smoky flavor. When I turned back to him, I saw patience and understanding in his eyes. "I know. It's just better for me to make a plan, stick to it, and not give in to my emotions. Right now that plan is to get to the Embassy and see if I can get a passport." I swallowed another sip, adding, "And call my boyfriend."

"Are you … afraid of him?"

I almost laughed. Oh, I was afraid of Ranger, but not for the reasons Jean Philippe asked. "No. He would _never _hurt me. He reserves his anger for those who try to harm me. I'm just worried about how he's handling my sudden absence." The concern cleared from his eyes and he gave a single nod.

In truth, I dreaded telling Ranger where I was. He liked to be in control, to keep tabs on me. I also knew he'd get that steely tone to his voice, detached with an underlying anger, that would frustrate me since all I wanted was to hear the familiar amusement in his voice. Happiness was in short supply right now. Not to mention the fact that I severely lacked information that would be helpful, other than my location. I didn't like how easy it had been for someone to smuggle me out of my own country and drop me off in another without so much as a ripple in my memory. It was incredibly disturbing, to say the least.

My attention came back to the present and I noticed Jean Philippe studying me with a sad expression on his face. I didn't know what he was thinking, but it seemed like he really 'got' how I felt. "Stephanie, I do not know how nor why this happened to you, to be certain, but I do know that we must do all we can to return you to your family and your lover. There is nothing worse than being left with a mystery when you are desperate for answers." Too quickly, a bright smile replaced the sadness as if he'd flipped a switch. He'd spoken like someone with experience and I filed the information away in my head for later exploration. "Since you are alone, I must insist that you stay at my home for as long as you need."

His sweet offer was just the human kindness I needed after my rude awakening this morning. "You're very kind," I said, setting down my coffee cup and picking up a croissant. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

I thought about it while I ripped off a piece of the buttery roll and ate it. Staying with Jean Philippe and the Mrs. meant companionship. If Ranger made arrangements for me, I could expect lockdown. I may have woken up alone — okay, and scared — in a foreign country, but it didn't mean I had to give up my independent spirit.

He leaned forward with an earnest expression. "Stephanie, it is not good for a woman to be alone in a strange city. If you do not stay, I will worry. This way I can see for myself that you are safe."

Did I have a sign on my forehead only men could see that said _I need protecting_? The man could give Ranger a run for his money in overprotectiveness. Still, his generosity had to be considered and the last thing I wanted to do was offend him. I grabbed the dish of fruit and set it in front of me, picking up my fork. With a smile I said, "I'd hate to worry you, so I guess it's settled."

"Wonderful! I will tell my wife, Elise, to expect a guest this evening. I warn you, she will fuss over you. We have a niece, Cecille, who lives in the south. Elise spoils her so, but we do not see her often enough." He smiled broadly, patted my hand, and left his on top of mine for a moment. "Thank you for letting us help." It was exactly the right thing to say to me to seal the deal.

He watched as I forked a piece of melon into my mouth, his face reflective. I moved on to the yogurt, finished the croissant, and then back to the fruit, eating until I was stuffed. I finished my meal with another cup of the strong coffee, cooled and sweetened from the addition of milk and sugar.

After the empty cup was back on the table, he asked with a wide smile, "How does the food compare to your mother's — what was it — pineapple cake?"

I smiled. "Pineapple upside down cake. The breakfast was good, but that cake is my favorite." And right now, I'd give just about anything to be at my mother's, eating a slice. I'd even suffer through the Morelli lecture again.

He smiled and shrugged, in a 'to each his own' manner and then stood. "You are finished eating?"

"Yes, thanks." I couldn't help but smile. His congenial spirit was contagious. Listening to him order the food and communicate with the waiter had been an attention grabber for me. The way the words flowed off his tongue, like silk, made me understand why French was called the language of love. I tried to imagine Ranger speaking French and trembled at the thought. I wasn't sure any woman would be ready for that. Spanish was just as dangerous, though he rarely spoke it around me.

Jean Philippe dropped several bills onto the table as we stood, then he led me a few more blocks, crossing several terrifying intersections along the way. When we came to a quieter area, he gestured and pointed out the Embassy directly in front of us on the other side of the street. I was surprised that we'd already arrived, though it had been a lot more walking than I normally did. I was more of an elevator riding, car driving, Jersey girl. Still, I wasn't tired and I'd enjoyed the walk as well as the company. As much as a kidnapped woman could enjoy those things.

The building was nestled behind a wrought iron fence and a row of heavily budded trees. He led me across the street and up to the front entrance. We stopped there and I reached out to shake his hand, but received a tight hug and a kiss on both cheeks. I averted my face trying not to look awkward and stepped back with a quick smile.

"You will be all right?" I nodded. "Good. I will give you my telephone numbers. If you call, I will meet you here to take you to my home. We will be ready for you." He hesitated slightly. "Unless you would like company while you wait?"

"No, thank you. You've done so much already. And I don't know how long I'll be here." My conscience couldn't take the guilt of keeping him away from his business any longer than necessary.

He leaned forward with a serious look and said, "Stephanie, I want to give you some money in case you need it. For food and necessities. You will be on your own today and I want to know you can at least eat and take care of your needs."

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but I couldn't deny he had a point. "I want to say I don't need it, but I do. I want you to let me pay you back, though."

"Absolutely not." He pulled out several bills and handed them to me. "Fifty Euros. Now you do not have to worry or go hungry today while you take care of business."

My brow furrowed and I felt that familiar guilt creep in. The same feeling I'd always gotten in the past when Ranger had helped me, even after we'd started dating, because I didn't have anything to offer in return. I hated the obligatory indebtedness I felt toward others who showed me kindness. I also didn't want to _have_ to accept his help, but recognized how stupid it would be to turn him down.

"I — thank you. I wish I didn't have to put you out like this, but I'm grateful for your help."

He shook his head quickly and made a 'nonsense' motion with his hand. "Please do not feel you are 'putting me out' as you say. I offer this money and my home to you for purely selfish reasons."

"Thank you. You've been very kind even though you don't know me," I said and looked at the tall building in front of me. A reminder that life was not so simple anymore. Some part of me thought maybe I couldn't handle doing this on my own, but I squashed it down. It was a ridiculous thought. "I keep telling myself that I'm not over my head, Jean Philippe."

"I understand, but you have me now. And Elise, too. Are you sure you do not want me to stay?" The concern was back in his eyes.

I shook my head. "No, please don't. You should get back. This really could take a while." A long while.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind and dug in his pocket, pulling out an ink pen and a small white business card with thin black script on one side. He scribbled something on the blank side of the card and handed it to me. "Call me when you finish. Please. These are my telephone numbers; my shop on the top and my home on the bottom. If it is after 2 o'clock, call my home." He patted my cheek in a fatherly gesture and turned to leave.

I watched him cross the road the way we had come and then turned and hurried up to the guarded door of the austere building. It was time to get myself back home and get some retribution — once I figured out whose ass I needed to kick_._

…

Two aggravating hours later, I was being taken to the office of Madge Barker, the manager I'd demanded to see. I tried to keep a positive attitude. At least I wasn't arguing with a desk clerk any longer. Getting this far had been difficult because they didn't seem to believe that I was who I claimed to be. The petite little blonde at the desk had given me the runaround, making me fill out paperwork, then more paperwork. I finally got so frustrated I'd demanded her superior.

Within minutes, I was ushered through a door hidden in the paneling behind the counter. When I entered, I saw Madge seated at a large natural wood desk. She motioned to the seat opposite her.

I studied her appearance as I sat. She was petite, with medium length blonde hair, had a trim figure — no doubt honed by years of walking to work in heels — clad in a navy blue suit, beady dark brown eyes, and coral lipstick on her full lips. By the laugh lines around her eyes, I guessed her to be in her mid-forties.

"Stephanie Plum, did you say?" she asked when I sat down. "How can I help you?"

I began to explain from the beginning and grew annoyed the more doubtful she looked. "So, you see, I need help. I want to go home. I wish I could provide the documents everyone is asking for, but…" I shrugged with my hands palm up to emphasize that I didn't have them.

"That's a convenient story, Ms. Plum, but you understand I can hardly take your word for it." She sat back with something like a smirk on her face. I couldn't help but think how the name 'Barker' suited her personality. The woman was a pit bull despite her initial friendly appearance.

My temper flew out of control and my mouth took off before I completely rose from my seat, arms flailing expressively in agitation. "What more can I say? My name is Stephanie Michelle Plum. What do I have to do to get that through your thick head, for God's sake?"

Madge gave me a stern look. "I can't just hand you a passport without proof of identity," she explained.

"I know, but I don't know how to get what you need without going home. And you say I can't do that without my passport. Do you see how fucked up this whole thing is?" My voice raised several decibels as I spoke.

Madge stood and crossed her arms. "Please sit down, Miss Plum." I grudgingly complied and she continued, "Yes, this is a real problem. What you need is a legal representative who can bring documents of proof here to help you clear up this mess." She almost looked sorry for me, but I could tell she wasn't going to budge. I supposed I should have been happy that it wasn't so easy for anyone to just waltz in here and get a passport without proof of identity, but I was too pissed to think of it that way just then.

Since I wanted to call him anyway, Ranger was the obvious person to contact. Not to mention the fact that he was the only person I knew with all of the connections it seemed I would need to get home. I took a deep breath, trying to think of how to explain all of this to him. Then it dawned on me that he most likely knew more than I did at this point because he was most likely calling everyone he knew to track me down. "Can I use your phone to call the person who can vouch for me?" I asked.

"Of course." She indicated to her phone, handed me the receiver as she hit an outgoing line, explaining how to dial a US telephone number. I dialed his number and waited, taking slow breaths to calm my nerves, knowing it was still quite early in Trenton.

As the phone rang, I reminded myself to keep my cool when he answered because he'd most likely be worried and stressed out, though I knew he'd never admit to either. He also might say something to piss me off. Stressed Ranger had a habit of doing that.

"Talk," a sleepy voice came across the line.

"Tank?" I asked, utterly confused.

Silence.

"Tank, is that you?" I asked again.

"Who is this?"

"It's Stephanie. What other woman would call this number so early in the morning?" I asked. "Why do you have Ranger's cell phone?"

I was met by silence again.

"Tank? Are you there?"

The line stayed silent and then I heard a dial tone. What the fuck? I sat down, my legs no longer able to hold me. He had hung up on me. I might have cried if I hadn't suddenly gotten pissed off.

I looked at Madge. "Sorry, I think we got disconnected. I was calling a cell phone."

"Of course," Madge said and motioned to the phone again. She looked wary, but curious.

I dialed the number again and waited while it rang.

"This is a sick, twisted joke," Tank said when he answered the phone this time.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I don't know who you are, but if you call here claiming to be that person again, I'll hunt you down!" Never had he talked to me that way before. I knew he was going to hang up again and I had to think fast.

"Pierre!"

Silence greeted me again. I had just about lost hope when he said, "How do you know that name?"

"Because, it's _your_ name. Remember? I learned it the day you broke your leg, or that is, when my skip broke your leg." I blew a breath out and smiled slightly.

He was silent again, but I was hopeful that I had his attention. For some reason he didn't believe I was me. It hurt. How could he not recognize my voice? And more importantly, why wasn't he relieved to hear from me? Wouldn't they all be searching heaven and hell to find me? The lack of frantic yelling for Ranger suddenly had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end while a sense of dread spread rapidly through my gut.

Finally, he spoke again. "If this is Stephanie, you won't mind if I ask you a few questions," he said.

"I'll answer them, but why—"

"What song did Lester serenade our table with on the night of September third, two thousand ten?" he asked.

"You mean the one you almost kicked his ass over last night?" I grinned, despite myself, remembering. "It was a song by Queen. Um … _Friends Will Be Friends_. Now, what's going on?"

He was silent _again_.

"Tank?"

"What did I say to you in the car on the way to Morelli's the night we pulled you out of the cupboard at Stiva's place?" he asked.

"What?" I asked in exasperation. "You expect me to remember a conversation from that long ago?" I waited a beat, but he didn't answer so I said, "Wait, just give me a second. I've had several naps since then, you know. You said, um, it was … Oh! You told me you were worried about me and that you liked me." I smiled. "That was the start of a great friendship, don't you think?"

More silence. I was about to blow my top.

"Hey, keep up!"

"What is my most prized possession?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. He was getting ridiculous. Still, the strange questions had my mind working double time. "That's a trick question. You prize your friendships the most, because they bring you more happiness than any _thing_ ever could," I said between clenched teeth. "Are you done?"

He blew out a breath and made a strange noise. "Shit, it really is you. I don't understand."

"You don't understand? You'd better tell me what the hell is going on," I said as a painful jolt of fear spiked through my central nervous system. "Where is Ranger? Did something happen to him?"

"He's in D.C. Yes, you could say something happened to him." He was acting strange, very unlike himself. His voice was all wrong, strained and uneven.

"What? What happened? Can I call him? He didn't have plans to leave yesterday and now he's gone? I don't get it." Tank had Ranger's cell phone. I knew without a doubt Ranger would make sure I could contact him or one of his men at all times, so it wasn't farfetched. Had he been called away on a job suddenly? If that was the case, Tank would have said so. Washington D.C.? What was he doing there?

It was time to face facts. Something big had changed. It felt wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"France. Paris, actually," I said. "I'm in a shitload of trouble here and I need help."

I heard him mumble something unintelligible. "You can't speak to him right now, but I'll make a few calls and get him to call you," he said. "Give me a number where you can be reached."

I asked Madge for her office number, repeating it for Tank, and then she informed me they closed at 2:00 this afternoon. "They close in two hours," I said with a glance at the wall clock. "If he doesn't get me by then, have him try me at this number." I recited off Jean Philippe's home number for him.

"Okay." His voice cracked and he sighed. "So, you say we were at Shorty's last night?"

"Yes, I think so. I mean, it's confusing as hell, but that's pretty much the last thing I remember. Then I woke up here, with a splitting headache, in bed with some guy."

"Did he hurt you? Do you know who he is or have his name? Where is he now?" This was the type of response I'd expected at the beginning of the phone call.

"He's not important. He's a kid. I don't even think he knew I was there. I snuck out this morning before anyone woke up. To be honest, I thought we were all prisoners, at first, but it turned out to be a hostel."

"You weren't being held?" He sounded doubtful. Considering the nature of his business, I could understand skepticism, but I didn't like the feeling that he was skeptical of _me_.

"Not by those people, but I'm guessing _someone _has it out for me. Do you have any leads there in Trenton? Whoever did this put a serious kink in my life. Ranger and I were supposed to be moving my things into his place today, but instead I woke up in _Paris_. Now, he doesn't have his phone anymore and you're not acting like yourself. I want someone's ass, Tank." My voice wavered from a mixture of anger and fear and I felt like kicking something.

"I'll call Ranger. He'll explain," he said. "Call me if you don't hear from him. Do you have somewhere to go? Are you okay?"

My eyes filled with tears and I mentally cursed. It was easier to keep them at bay when I'd had anger to sustain my resolve. "Yes, I have a place to stay. I met someone who is helping me and offered to let me crash at his place. His is the second number I gave you. I'm not okay emotionally. Physically, I've been fed and I'm unhurt. I'll be better when Ranger calls."

"Who is this man? What's his name and where does he live?"

"Jean Philippe Beaumont. I don't know where he lives, but I promise he's harmless."

"Guess I have no choice but to trust you on that." He was silent again before he quietly said, "It's great to hear your voice, Sweetness." Then he was gone, so I hung up the receiver. I closed my eyes and took several slow, steady breaths to fight off another wave of emotion.

"What in the world is going on?" I finally asked in a daze.

"Was your friend surprised to hear from you?" Madge asked. For once, she actually looked sympathetic. Go figure. The pit bull could do compassion.

"He shouldn't have been! I just saw him and the guys last night. Now all of a sudden he's acting like I called him from the afterlife!" I said, frustrated.

"Last night?" She looked confused.

"Yes, last night. How could he not believe it was me?" I stood and started pacing, then stopped to toss an accusing glance her way. "That seems to be the theme of the day."

She stood up and came around her desk to lean her backside on the front edge, smoothing her skirt over her thighs nonchalantly as she said, "Oh, I imagine he was quite shocked to hear from you." She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. "If you really are Stephanie Plum."

"I _am_ Stephanie Plum. I proved it to him or the conversation would have ended a lot sooner. Sorry I can't do the same for you right now." I stared at her hard for a beat to emphasize my statement. The first part of what she said came back to me. "Why would he be shocked?" I locked my knees to keep from collapsing when the feeling that I wouldn't like what she was going to say hit me full force between the shoulder blades and fanned out to encompass my whole body.

She leaned forward a little and laced her fingers together in front of her against her thighs. "Your records state you were declared missing on September 4, 2010. A death certificate was issued on October 18th that same year."

I wanted to laugh hysterically because what she said was just too insane to be true. "That's impossible. I'm right here." I scrubbed my hands over my face in an attempt to rub away the fog that had begun to close in around me. Then the dates clicked. "Wait! October? Shit, how long have I been gone? What's today's date?" I hadn't had a reason to check before now, but it was suddenly the most important detail of my life.

She looked apologetic as she said, "July 23, 2011."

...

_A/N: I've been to Paris, but I've never been to the US Embassy. I've seen vague pictures of it, so I had to use my imagination on how to get into it and what it looked like on the inside._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

From Chapter 3:

_She leaned forward a little and laced her fingers together in front of her against her thighs. "Your records state you were declared missing on September 4, 2010. A death certificate was issued on October 18th that same year."_

_I wanted to laugh hysterically because what she said was just too insane to be true. "That's impossible. I'm right here." I scrubbed my hands over my face in an attempt to rub away the fog that had begun to close in around me. Then the dates clicked. "Wait! October? Shit, how long have I been gone? What's today's date?" I hadn't had a reason to check before now, but it was suddenly the most important detail of my life._

_She looked apologetic as she said, "July 23, 2011."_

...

Chapter 4

"I've been gone over ten months," I whispered after counting back to September in my head. My vision grayed around the edges and I sat down, nauseous. I aimed for the chair, but missed completely and my butt slammed down onto the floor. My shocked brain didn't even register the pain because it was too busy trying to process everything. It just couldn't be — it couldn't!

If someone asked me to swear on the Bible or to the Pope himself, I'd say today was September fourth. I would have challenged anyone that Ranger and I were moving in together today. But my head argued over the logic of what I could see versus what I thought I knew. When I considered Tank's reaction and Madge's suspicion, not to mention that I was in Paris, the odds were against my version of reality.

I completely zoned out for an indeterminate amount of time while I had my internal debate. Apparently at some point I'd moved from the floor back to the chair – one more thing I didn't remember doing – but Madge's voice on the phone snapped me out of it. She flicked her eyes to me and must have noticed that I was coherent again because she nodded and said, "Yes, she's here, sir. Just one moment." She pressed a button on the base unit and, finally, looked sympathetic to my case. I was too numb to say 'I told you so' and settled for slumping my shoulders and leaning against the short back of the chair. "I have Warrant Officer Mañoso on the phone asking for you. Are you able to take the call?"

I leaned forward and swallowed hard in an attempt to get my heart to move down to where it belonged. All day, all I wanted was to talk to Ranger. Now was my chance and I didn't know what to say to him. My emotions warred within me and, more than anything in the world, I wanted answers. And I wanted my life fixed — meaning the life I had in 2010.

I pressed my fingers to my temples to stem the throbbing pain there when her words sunk in. "Warrant Officer?" Ranger was a police officer? I tried to wrap my head around that thought and couldn't see it. There's no way he'd become a cop. I'd heard her wrong.

"Yes, Warrant Officer R. Carlos Mañoso. He's on the phone. Are you okay? Do you still want to speak with him?"

What the fuck kind of questions were those? I'd just found out my life was not, that I wasn't— I gave myself a shake and stood up on wobbly legs, leaning forward to take the receiver from her. I put the handset to my ear and suddenly had a breathing problem. My voice squeaked out a strange, breathy version of his name. "Ranger?"

A brief silence followed my question and then I heard his quiet, "Stephanie?" The voice was tight and raspier than I remembered, but it was him.

The underlying anguish in his voice struck a chord deep within me and I bit my lips together to keep them from trembling as tears blurred my vision. What he'd gone through, I could only guess, and even then I was sure I'd still be wrong. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling now. Given the way he'd felt about me, the pain and loss couldn't be measured. Despite what I'd just learned, I still _felt_like I'd only lost a few hours of my life, not months. No, there wasn't a comparison.

I drew in a deep breath through my nose and cleared my throat. "Yes, it's me."

His silence was a telling thing, really. It had nothing to do with him not actually saying anything, because I was used to his lack of speech. It was the feel of it. Calculating, doubting … uncertain.

Because I was nervous and still stunned, I just opened my mouth and let all the frustration of my day pour out. "Look, I don't know what the hell is going on. Ms. Barker said everyone thinks I … died. I just found out there's a flipping death certificate for me, for Crissake. Did Tank tell you where I am? For the record, I'm not impressed with the place so far. Not really a fan of how I woke up, either." I didn't recognize my own voice, the tone was almost strident. In fact, I sounded like … my mother. Mental groan.

"It really is you," he finally said, as if he wasn't exactly sure of it, yet, but would warm up to the idea.

I breathed out, "I know. I've been trying to tell everyone." Then I cleared my throat and said in a firmer tone, "Granted, I understand people think I'm, uh, that I'm not a–around anymore, but still … Tank didn't recognize my voice. You're even having trouble believing me."

"You—" He stopped for a minute. "This is … unexpected."

"Unexpected? This is _unprecedented_. I woke up here with _nothing_. No money for food, not knowing where I was, and then having to go to the friggin' Embassy to try to get home only to find out that—"

"You're sure no one was with you? You're not being followed?" he asked.

"Uh, I didn't see anyone around …" Better not to tell him how _un_aware of my surroundings I'd been. "Not bad guys, anyway. I woke up with a hippie kid, but I'm certain he had nothing to do with my sudden appearance here. In _Paris_. By the way, did I _mention_ that I don't speak French? I didn't get a shower, and _then_ I had to walk around in this sticky heat. I'm dirty, I don't even want to know how long it's been since my hair saw a brush. Oh yeah. My hair—"

"Babe!" he said firmly, not quite shouting.

That was all I needed and what I didn't realize I'd been waiting for him to say. No matter what else happened, he'd switched back to 'babe' and I knew everything would be okay. I relaxed. Slightly. "Sorry."

"We'll figure this out. What do you need most?" he asked.

"You," I said, "yesterday." In fact, I wanted him yesterday, as in the day _I_ thought was yesterday. "Please."

He was silent for a few beats and I heard computer keys clicking. He sighed. It was slight, but I heard it. "I'll be on a plane as soon as I can arrange leave."

"Leave?" My brow furrowed in confusion.

Again, he was silent for a minute, and then said, "Army."

So, he wasn't a cop after all. I didn't know what to think about him being in the Army again. That had never been a part of his plan. The only thing I could think to say was, "Really?"

"Yes." Leaving no room for me to question him, he said, "You sure about this guy offering you a place to stay?"

Tank had certainly filled him in on everything I'd said during our brief conversation. "You mean you haven't checked him out already?" I asked, surprised.

Ranger didn't say anything for a minute. Then he said, "I called you." Wow. Just … wow. Ranger _always _checked. This was unfamiliar territory for me. I'd expected something more normal: the protector, the one who wanted to do a full security check to be certain I wasn't staying with a psychopath. I was even prepared to get annoyed with him over it. Ranger calling me over doing his security thing threw me.

"He's wonderful, a real angel," I said. "He fed me, brought me to the Embassy, gave me money, and then offered me a place to stay."

"Stephanie," he said in a quiet voice with a slight edge to his tone. I wondered if he was jealous or suspicious of Jean Philippe and went on to explain the rest of the story.

"I haven't met his wife, yet, but he raved about her this morning."

"Okay," he said, more relaxed this time. "When you get there, call my cell." He gave me his new number and I wrote it down on Jean Philippe's card. "Stay close to his place and don't go out alone. I'd even prefer it if you didn't go out at all."

"Ranger," I said. "I need clothes, a toothbrush—"

"Not alone. I have an escort for you." I resisted a sigh. Babysitter was more like it, but I wasn't going to complain right now, given the circumstances. "Take down this number." I copied it onto the business card beneath Ranger's new cell number. "His name is Chaz. Call him. Please, do this for me."

Normally, the situation would annoy me. Always one to crave my independence, I never took kindly to life under guard. For obvious reasons, I decided to let go of it for now. Since I couldn't speak or read French, I was grateful I wouldn't have to stumble solo through the city. Even without my own reasons for wanting a babysitter, I had to consider that Ranger had thought I was dead up until fifteen minutes ago and he most likely wanted a guarantee to my safety.

"Okay, I promise I'll call him to take me shopping."

Silence.

Big sigh. "I'll call him now. Happy?"

"Stephanie … I'll see you soon." And he hung up. I supposed coming back from the dead exempted me from his normal abrupt disconnects. That was a bona fide goodbye.

I turned to Madge and, consumed with relief, held my hand out for a quick handshake. "Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Barker. I know I was difficult for a while, but I appreciate you sticking with me."

She gave my hand a squeeze and removed her glasses, giving me a sincere look. "We have some time to start working on your case, if you'd like to start filling out the paperwork, Miss Plum. We can't make anything official until your death certificate is cancelled and your social security number is reactivated, but we can start the process."

"Thanks, but I think I'll wait until Ranger gets here to see how he wants to do this."

She flicked out her first two fingers. A business card rested between them and I took it gratefully, stuffing it into the back pocket of my jeans with Jean Philippe's card. At the very least, I wouldn't have to repeat the earlier scene from out at the service counter if I had to come back. She leaned back and relaxed with a nod.

"Okay if I use your phone again?"

"Yes, of course."

I called Chaz and explained who I was, though he seemed to know about me already. He ended the call with, "I'll be there in twenty-five." I was left staring at a silent receiver. Was it a requirement for employment with Ranger to be abrupt? The only difference so far had been the French accent. Wow, watch out world. Merry Men, French style.

Letting it go for the moment, I thanked Madge again and left her office to go wait for Chaz in the lobby. Despite everything, I felt my lips tip up in a curious smile as I wondered if a French Merry Man would be the same as a Trenton Merry Man.

I lost track of time staring out the window. Whenever the front doors opened, I turned my head to see who'd come in. I knew Chaz the minute I saw him. Tall, muscular build, clad in black, short blonde hair neatly trimmed, sun bronzed skin, and bright green eyes assessing the room as he approached me. "Miss Plum," he said in his sultry French accent. He didn't ask. Men like Chaz didn't have to ask, they knew everything. Not to mention that Ranger had probably given him a description down to my quirky mannerisms.

"Yes." I held my hand out to shake his and he engulfed it gently with his own. I smiled and received a dazzling smile in return. Okay, so French Merry Men had US Rangemen hotness, but they smiled — a lethal combination. "Should we head directly to my friend's shop?"

"Wherever you want to go."

Chaz and I walked pretty much the same route Jean Philippe and I had taken. Along the way, I dragged him into a little confection shop so I could buy some chocolate and maybe a few other snacks. I needed some happy and I was sure they didn't have Tastykakes in Paris.

Chaz did all the talking for me. I pointed out what I wanted, he ordered, and then he paid. When I protested, he simply said, "Ranger." I shook my head because arguing was pointless and I wanted to focus my energy on eating the chocolate.

It was nearly one thirty when we reached Jean Philippe's shop. Through the storefront window, he saw us approach the door and came out to greet me. He stopped short at the sight of Chaz, but recovered quickly and focused his attention on me. With a look of sheer delight on his handsome face, he said, "Ah, _chèrie_. What happened at the Embassy? Can you go home now?"

I told him the minimum basics: that I'd been missing longer than I realized and it was a shock for everyone to find out I was in Paris. I left out the whole 'death' thing because I still couldn't wrap my brain around it. Of course, then I felt bad when the troubled look came back into his eyes. "But don't worry. It will be handled soon," I said to reassure him.

He brightened and said, "You have arrived just in time for lunch. Shall we go to my home?"

I nodded my consent and turned to Chaz. "Thanks, I think we've got it from here."

"I'm to escort you to your destination, Ms. Plum." So lovely. Another man my age who insisted on calling me the name of an old maid. I didn't bother to argue with him because it'd be no use. I did wonder, though, how Ranger managed to keep Merry Men scared of him from across the Atlantic.

Jean Philippe looked concerned at Chaz's presence, so I felt the need to reassure him. "I'm sorry. He's staying until I get into your apartment, Jean Philippe."

"No explanation necessary. I recognize a bodyguard when I see one," he said. "I'm more concerned as to the danger which makes him necessary."

He had a good point. I placed my hand on his forearm and said, "If you're afraid I will bring danger to you or your wife, I'm sure Ranger will make arrangements for me to stay elsewhere." I didn't look forward to life in lockdown, but I didn't want someone else to take a chance on their safety for me.

Jean Philippe drew his eyebrows together. "No, no. You misunderstand. I am only concerned for your safety." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "What would anyone want with a harmless shopkeeper and his wife?" His casual statement alone made me think he was probably more of a handful than he let on.

With a quick glance at Chaz, he said, "I must tell Alexandre I'm leaving. I will be back in one moment." He was literally back in thirty seconds and we were on our way.

The walk to his apartment was swift. In my mind, I thought we'd have a leisurely stroll, maybe him asking for and sharing more personal details. Jean Philippe was obviously more concerned about me than he originally had been with Chaz in the picture.

After ten minutes, we stopped at an aged stone building. I turned to Chaz, who planted his feet on the sidewalk and motioned us toward the door with a smile. I shook my head as I went through the door Jean Philippe held open for me.

Inside the building's foyer, the tempting smell of freshly baked bread and other kitchen aromas greeted us. My stomach growled when I smelled the food and I sent Jean Philippe an apologetic smile.

He chuckled and tugged me over to a staircase. I gave an inward groan as we began our ascent. "There is no shame in having an appetite. Relish it, live it. Make everything in your life about feeding your hunger and you will be happy and content. _Oui_?"

I nodded. "I'll try." How embarrassing.

"No. To 'try' is to accept the possibility of failure," he said in an enthusiastic whisper. "Just do!" His eyes sparkled with mirth, but I could tell he was completely serious.

I fidgeted awkwardly. Heartfelt moments like this were never very comfortable for me. I did have a desire to live life on my terms. It was the reason I'd jumped off the garage as a kid. It was the reason I'd given my virginity to Morelli, though I'd been warned against him. It was also the reason I'd become a bounty hunter. Most importantly, it was the reason I'd taken a chance with Ranger. I wanted the thrill of _living _to drive me. "Okay, I will."

Jean Philippe smiled and said, "Stephanie, welcome to my home." I looked around the small landing at the top of the stairs that led to a hallway. He opened the first door on the left and led me into a small apartment where the savory smell of bread and something wonderful exploded to drool level. What the place lacked in size, it compensated with elegance. The furniture was simple and tasteful in creams and browns with rose accents. The tables and floors were all dark hard wood and the walls were painted muted shades of ecru, tan and a pale olive green.

There were thick, cream-colored candles all around, but they were unlit, probably due to the heat. Enticing smells wafted throughout the apartment and I nearly whimpered from my sudden starvation. He led me through an archway near the front door to the kitchen where a woman fluttered around the stove.

She was trim and short, about five feet two inches, and had slightly graying, sandy blonde hair she kept pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She turned to me with an infectious smile and I couldn't help but return it. Her pale blue eyes were friendly and she had a youthful look; I found myself staring because of the sweet countenance that glowed around her.

With quick steps she crossed the small space and pulled me down with both hands on my shoulders to kiss both of my cheeks. "Stephanie! I am so pleased to meet you. We hoped you would arrive in time to join us. Please, sit down. It is time to eat." Her rosy cheeks were charming, but I couldn't tell if the blush was natural or a result of the stove's warmth.

We sat down to lunch a few minutes later. The soup was classic French onion, but it was so fragrant I thought I'd died and gone to food heaven. Even the cheese was so good it almost rivaled cake. Maybe. No, not really, but it was _close_.

I dug in, enjoying the food while my brain clicked through all the information I'd learned today. When my spoon hit empty bowl, I looked up and saw Jean Philippe and Elise observing me with concern. "I'm sorry. I think I lost myself for a while. It was delicious soup, Elise."

"Thank you. I am happy you liked it." She hesitated slightly and looked at Jean Philippe.

He took her hand in his and said, "Stephanie, you mentioned you found out you had been missing longer than you thought. I do not wish to pry, of course, but we are worried for you."

"Yes, the situation is much worse than I said. I found out some very disturbing things today and I'm not sure how to deal with them."

"Talk about it when you are ready, _ma __petite_. Meanwhile, I thought you may want to go shopping. You will need some things, yes?" Elise asked. I nodded and tried to get up to help her when she started clearing the table, but she waved me off.

"Uh, yes. I need some things," I said. "Actually, I'd like to freshen up first. I feel like I've become part of the city streets."

Elise smiled. "Go, I will put supper in the oven and finish up here. We will leave when you're ready."

I got to my feet and looked at both of them. Gratitude was one of those emotions I felt obligated to share, but I didn't always feel comfortable showing others how much something they did meant to me. I shifted on my feet for a second and then said, "I don't know how I could ever repay your kindness to me."

Jean Philippe put up a hand. "Stop! You cannot repay something we have freely given." He pushed himself to his feet and rounded the table to grasp my shoulders. "You are in need and we can help. It is our gift to you." I tried to shake my head, but he gave me a stubborn look and I knew it would insult him if I tried to refuse.

"Okay," I agreed and looked at Elise, who had come to stand in the doorway. "Then thank you."

Both Jean Philippe and Elise looked pleased. I headed to the bathroom Jean Philippe had shown me on our brief tour. He'd pointed out the towels so I'd feel comfortable to use them anytime I wanted. I'd no sooner shut the door than I remembered something very important. In a rush, I went back to the dining room and nearly ran over Jean Philippe in my haste. "May I use your phone to make an International call? I need to call my boyfriend." How could I have forgotten to call Ranger?

"Of course," he said. "Please use our home and anything we have as if it were your own. You do not need to ask permission."

That would be difficult for me, but I appreciated the gesture. I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to be that bold, even if my host requested it. Still, I had a call to make and I wasn't going to delay _that _any longer. Ranger was probably ready to send out the troops. Literally.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: I want to apologize if any words are smashed together in my chapters going forward. _The doc manager on this site removes spaces after italics for some reason._ I've been rechecking the chapters after I submit them, but I might miss some words._

…

Chapter 5

I went to the living room where I'd seen the phone sitting on a little stand beside an armchair and sat before grabbing the handset. Using the same instructions Madge gave me when I called Tank, I dialed Ranger's cell. He answered on the first ring and his voice had an edge to it. "Expected to hear from you before now. Chaz was about to head up the stairs."

"I'm sorry," I said, knowing Chaz most likely reported back to him when I was safely inside the building. "Elise had food ready and I was starving. I just finished eating."

I must have sounded uneasy because he sighed and said, "Food is important." Any other time, there'd be amusement in his voice. Not this time. Not following the year he'd had.

"It wasn't intentional," I said. Seriously, how insensitive could I be?

"I know. Stephanie, I need you to do everything I say until I'm there. For my sanity and your safety. Please."

"I will." Huh, turned out there was a situation that could make me more accepting of his demands: this one.

"Thank you."

I opened my mouth to speak again and nothing came out, but my heart said, 'I love you. I'd do anything for you.' Silence stretched between us and I couldn't remember a time when we'd been so awkward with each other, at least not since we'd become friends and certainly not since we'd been lovers.

Finally, he asked, "You don't remember anything about that night?"

"No. You took me back to my apartment and we started to, uh..." For some reason, talking about it was harder than I expected. I swallowed and said, "Tank called, you left, then I woke up here today. I have no idea what happened in between or where I've been." I winced at how emotional my voice sounded, especially since I hadn't had to suffer through the last ten months the way he had.

"We _will _find out who is behind this," he promised.

"I believe you." We both fell silent again and I couldn't stand the unease between us, so I said, "Elise and I are going shopping for a few things since I don't even have pajamas. I don't want to keep her waiting."

"Take Chaz with you."

"Okay." I hesitated, choking on all the things I _wanted_to say to him but didn't dare over the phone, especially since we'd never said any of them to each other in person before this all happened. Instead, I asked, "When will you be here?"

He was silent and I waited, shifting impatiently, for his answer. "I have a meeting tonight, mandatory. I'll be on the first flight after. I hate to say this, but my best guess is I'll be there tomorrow morning sometime," he said. "I'm sorry, babe."

The selfish part of me wanted to be upset that he couldn't have been on his way already. Instead, I thought about how frustrated he must be that his time wasn't his own anymore. My wait wouldn't be so bad, in comparison. Maybe by the time he left I'd be asleep and wouldn't even notice the hours. "It's okay. You're coming, that's the important thing."

"Always, Stephanie."

My throat tightened and my voice was husky when I said, "I'll see you in the morning sometime."

"Yes," he said. The line went dead and I smiled. Finally something familiar.

I went straight to the little bathroom after I hung up the phone and saw a brush, a wash cloth and face soap, and a spritzer bottle of hairspray sitting on a little table near the tub and shower combo. They hadn't been there during the mini tour and were arranged in such a way, I knew they were for my use. No doubt Elise had pulled them out for me while I was on the phone. Thank God for that woman. Elise's attention to detail made me appreciate my own mother and her efficient ways more than ever.

I fought off a huge wave of sadness and made myself busy washing my face and trying to tame my crazy hair. A shower was absolutely out of the question without clean underwear. Surprisingly enough, the wind from my walk had made my hair look more 'messy on purpose' rather than the opposite. I spritzed and twisted strands until I felt there was a little less frizz overall. The shorter length had obviously not affected manageability in any way.

Once I was satisfied with the frizz level, I grabbed a clip from a shelf where Elise had laid out a selection of them and pulled my hair back into a short, messy ponytail — the "messy" just couldn't be avoided. Loose tendrils fell out of the band in the back and curled around my neck. I knew by the time we returned from the shopping trip, my hair would be super frizzy and big again from my foray into the humid weather, but for now I looked acceptable.

I took an assessing look in the mirror. My clothes were obviously high quality and they fit me very well. They weren't too wrinkled and didn't _smell _dirty. I wondered how long I'd worn them. My cheekbones had hollowed out more in the past few months and my eyes seemed sadder, understandably so. Otherwise, I looked the same as I had the last time I remembered looking in the mirror — aside from the length of my hair which I still refused to dwell on. Without any makeup to enhance my looks, I was as good as I could get for now.

When I returned to the dining room, Jean Philippe said Elise was still working in the kitchen. I could hear the muffled sounds of metal and glass clinking together. I felt a pang of guilt, that old familiar feeling that I should offer my assistance. I smiled at Jean Philippe and said, "I'll go help Elise."

"No, no," Jean Philippe said. "You are a guest. Please, sit. She will be back in a moment."

I sat down awkwardly and fought off the Burg Collar of Duty tightening itself around my neck. Thankfully, he distracted my thoughts. "How was your phone call?"

"It was … difficult. I told you things are worse than we knew and the truth is a bit shocking." I explained to him how long I'd been gone, that everyone back home thought I was dead, and that Ranger's trip was as much to find out who was behind my disappearance as it was to reinstate my life.

A gasp from the kitchen doorway caught our attention and I looked over to see Elise standing with her hand over her mouth, her eyes moist. While I wasn't thrilled about it myself, I thought it was a fairly extreme reaction to have for a person she'd only met an hour before.

"It will be fine, Elise. We'll figure everything out. Ranger's very good with this sort of thing." I wanted to ease her concern and erase the horror from her eyes. Her hand trembled as she lowered it to her side and gave a little sniffle. In that moment, I knew her emotion went far deeper than just sympathy for me.

She made her way to her chair and sat down, smoothing her hands over her black slacks and spoke with her face tipped down, studying her movement. "We had a son, Stephanie. One day he did not return home from school. He was simply … gone. This was six years ago." A single tear streamed down her cheek and she swiped at it with the back of her hand, looking up at me. Her blue eyes had darkened with sadness. "Everyone said we learn to cope, to move on, but I miss him and I still hope. _Every_ day."

Her announcement hit me in the gut like a well-placed punch and the air whooshed out of my lungs. I was glad to be seated at the table because I suddenly felt weak. "Oh my God…"

"Jean Philippe and I do not often speak of him, but I feel it is fate you found us on _this_day." She took a deep breath. "Today would have been his twentieth birthday. He disappeared two weeks after he turned fourteen." She gestured to the kitchen. "I made his favorite lunch. Have done so every year on his birthday. My soup always made him smile."

I had no idea how to respond, but I felt stabbing pain for her, the way I felt it for my parents. I had no children, but I knew what I meant to my mother. I knew what it must have been like for her to hear I was dead. Had it been Ranger? One of the guys from TPD? Eddie? I didn't know, but I was devastated for all of them, my friends and family, and now the Beaumonts.

"I have finally acknowledged that he may not have survived whatever happened to him. He was a good boy and would have come home otherwise. I know we will never know what really happened. Sometimes I think it is better that way." Jean Philippe reached over and gently tugged her toward him so he could kiss her temple. She gave him a watery smile and looked at me. "It was not easy." Another deep breath. "Saying it aloud makes it too painful. In some ways, we have kept him alive in our home by keeping silence."

She forced a weak smile and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. "Your visit feels like a gift, maybe from him. Maybe he is trying to help me. I am glad you found my husband today. Who else could better understand what you are going through?" She shrugged in a matter of fact way, though I could tell it was far from how she felt. Then a small smile crept onto her face. "Watching you enjoy his soup and giving you his room … feels right."

Proving his devotion and sensitivity, Jean Philippe wrapped his wiry arms around her shoulders and murmured to her in French. Elise stared straight ahead, nodding slightly as he spoke, and patting the forearm across her front. They stayed that way for a minute, sharing their joint sadness and their tightly woven bond of love. I felt like an outsider, but I couldn't look away. Could that be Ranger and I someday? Could we move beyond the past ten months and all the hurt to stay happily together? Was there even an 'us' anymore?

After he released her, Elise shocked me by standing to round the corner of the table and bend over to wrap her arms around me in a tight embrace. Tears swam in my eyes and I blinked them back. Damn, I hated when people got mushy, it was nearly impossible to keep my cool.

"Tell me. Do you have parents, Stephanie? You have not mentioned them." The admonishment in her voice shamed me.

I nodded and mumbled against her hair, "I do."

She pulled back with a smile and asked, "Do you want to call them, too?"

"Yes, I do." I took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn't understand what I was about to say. "But I don't see a way I can do that without creating problems for everyone. First, I'm not sure it'd be easy to tell them something like this over the phone. Also, I need to wait until I know if, and by whom, I was kidnapped, and when I can go home. Knowing my mother, she'll want me on the first flight to Trenton and she'll only worry until I'm there."

The smile dropped from Elise's face when she straightened up and stared at me for a moment, pain reflected in her eyes. "I disagree with your plan. I think it is best for you to tell them you are alive, even if they cannot see you. It is an awful tragedy for a parent to lose a child."

Her words sparked a surge of regret. She was probably right, but I knew if I called them the Burg, then all of Trenton, would know in a matter of hours, maybe even minutes, that I was alive. Until I knew why, and _if, _my kidnapper had purposefully let me go, it wouldn't be smart to tip them off that I was alive and well. It'd be so much worse if my family and friends found out I was alive only to lose me for real. No, it was better to wait until we knew what we were up against.

I folded my hands together on the table top. "I understand your feelings, and I agree on some level. I'm sorry this hurts you, but I think it's best to let Ranger make that decision." Okay, so a tiny bit of me was being a coward and using Ranger as an excuse. I may have been stripped away from my life for ten months, but denial had always been a part of my arsenal.

Elise nodded. "Of course, you should do what you feel is best. I am sorry to push." She gestured toward the living room with a sudden, and bright, smile. "Are you ready for shopping?"

I returned her smile and stood. "Yes." Then I gave her an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry. We won't be completely alone. I promised Ranger I'd take someone to watch over us. He won't make himself a nuisance." As long as no one tried to tackle me in any of the stores.

"I know," she said with a nod. "Jean Philippe warned me about your bodyguard. I hope you are not really in danger."

"Um, with me, anything's possible. That's why Chaz is hanging around. But I haven't _felt _like I'm being watched."

She shook her head slightly. "It is not for me to understand how a beautiful young woman can live a life of such danger."

"I'll just call Chaz." And get as far away from this subject as possible. I liked Elise, but I didn't want a rundown on marriage and babies and it felt like that's exactly where we were headed.

…

Elise took me to several stores and made me try on everything. When we were finally done, Chaz was loaded down with several bags and boxes, including shoes, hair products, clothing, and makeup. He'd totally surprised me with his willingness to escort us through the stores and carry our purchases, all without complaint. French Merry Men had it all. I thought about asking Ranger to have the French team train the American team on bodyguard manners.

He also paid for everything, insisted on it. His answer was the same as it had been in the chocolate shop. Ranger. I didn't know the exact amount he spent, but Elise charged through the stores insisting I needed 'just one more thing' until I had about 'fifty' such things. Poor Chaz. At least I wouldn't lack anything I needed. I was most excited about the loofah on a stick, anxious to scrub my body pink under a hot shower spray.

On top of it all, Elise insisted on paying for all of my underwear and bras. She would not think of allowing a man who was 'not my lover' to purchase such intimate items for me. I wanted to smile. If only she knew the common occurrence of _that_in my life. Between Tank and Lester, I regularly had men buying underwear for me for distractions or even a few times when I needed to change on the way back to work. I tried to argue that she shouldn't spend money on me, but she insisted that they had missed years spoiling their own child and she wanted to do this for me. I bit my tongue and made myself smile and nod. The woman was good with the guilt. Too good.

Happily shopped out, we returned to the apartment where Chaz brought everything up before he said good night. I briefly wondered if he was actually going home or if Ranger was having him watch the building. Then I decided I probably already knew the answer.

Elise checked the chicken she'd put on before we left and said supper would be in thirty minutes. Grateful to have some time to clean up, I excused myself to the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as I could stand it. I put my new loofah to the test scrubbing every inch of my skin twice, then I washed my hair three times and loaded it with conditioner. After a quick shave — I tried not to cringe over the stubble on my legs — I had no time to spare and dried off as fast as I could, then threw on clean underwear, a pair of jean shorts, and a navy t-shirt.

I rushed out to the dining table and Jean Philippe chuckled. "You did not have to rush. We would have waited for you."

"I don't like to keep people waiting," I said.

After dinner, I called Ranger to say goodnight and to see if he'd left, yet. I figured if I got no answer, maybe he was on a plane already. He answered on the first ring. "Babe. Everything okay?"

"Yes. I just needed to hear your voice again."

I heard him exhale quietly. "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah." My throat convulsed and I swallowed. Hard to believe how difficult it was to act normal just talking to him and wondered how bad it would be when we were face to face. I wanted to apologize to him for everything, even if none of this had been my fault. "I can't even imagine what it must have been like…" I blew a breath out slowly to reign in my emotions and collect my thoughts. "I know this has been much harder on you than it has for me."

"Harder on me?"

"Sure, I had no idea I was gone. You thought I was … that I was gone. I've only had to deal with this reality for a few hours." My voice cracked and I swallowed.

"Hadn't thought about it that way." He paused and said, "It's the worst thing I've ever had to do." A huge admission from him.

I needed to get away from the emotional stuff right now because hearing him admit to the difficulty was enough to send me to my knees. I changed gears by saying, "I need to know the basics, Ranger. You know the last thing I remember, but what about you? Did I have more time with you that I don't remember? Did I just wander off with amnesia one day? Was I kidnapped? Is this all thanks to a crazy skip?"

"Your last memory was the last time I saw you. I came back to your place two hours after I left. You were gone without a trace." His voice was low enough that I had to strain to hear him. I imagined him with his head back, probably against the back of a couch or chair, eyes closed. "It was clear you hadn't gone on your own because your car was in the lot."

His statement relieved me of a fear I hadn't realized had clung to my subconscious: the worry that he'd thought I left him. Knowing he'd never considered it was practically a gift at this point. I felt much lighter when I spoke next. "I assume you're going with the theory that this wasn't a random act…" my voice trailed off.

"Would have taken too much planning to execute," he said, echoing my thoughts. "Try not to stress about it right now." Right, don't waste energy on unproductive emotions. I wondered if he'd been able to do that ten months ago.

Me? Not so much. "I wish I could tell you what happened."

"We _will_ figure it out." His voice was rough, determined. "It's more important that you're alive and safe."

"I agree."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

A trace amount of happiness began to edge out despair and I smiled. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Night." My second goodbye from him. I listened to him disconnect before I replaced the receiver in the cradle and then stood to wander into the kitchen. Elise and Jean Philippe were drinking coffee and talking, but smiled when I entered.

"All is well?" Elise asked.

I shrugged and said, "All things considered, I think so." I accepted a fresh cup of coffee from her gratefully. She'd already put milk and sugar in it for me.

We retreated to the dining room and chatted until my coffee was gone and I'd turned into one big, continuous yawn. "Sorry," I said around a particularly deep one. "I think I'm about to turn into a pumpkin," I said and froze at the usage of my father's pet name for me.

Elise, noticing the change in my mood, said, "Yes, it is time for us all to rest." She stood to gather cups from the table and patted my arm when she took my cup.

"It is sad to say goodnight, but my wife is right. You look like you are ready to fall over soon and I have a shop to open in the morning," Jean Philippe said in a chipper voice. I was glad for his cheerfulness. The evening, the entire day, had been far too serious and depressing.

Another yawn caught me, the strength of it causing my eyes to water, and I gave them both a sheepish grin. "My body certainly agrees with the suggestion."

Jean Philippe stood with me and both of them hugged me briefly and kissed me on each cheek. The kissing thing was awkward, as was the hugging, but I wouldn't have denied them anything after all of their kindness toward me.

"Good night and thank you," I said.

Jean Philippe put a fatherly hand on my shoulder and looked directly into my eyes. "Stephanie, it is our pleasure. I am thankful you walked into my shop this morning." He squeezed my shoulder, then pulled back and slipped his arm around Elise's waist, leading her out of the room. I went to my room and changed into my new nightgown and fell into bed, pulling the covers up tight before turning out the lamp.

My sleep was interrupted by strange dreams, flashes of places and people I didn't know, some kind and some not. I saw a short woman with dark hair and an attractive child in her lap, then myself looking over a beautiful city nightscape with a feeling of cold loneliness in my heart, and lastly I saw a pair of eyes looking at me with rage and murder in their depths. It felt so real that I woke with a start. I sat up with my arms wrapped around my body to ward off the chill from within. When I remembered where I was and that I was safe, I fell back into a restless sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

Chapter 6

Light rapping on my door dragged me from another round of crazy dreams, none of which I could have described. Disoriented, I called out, "Come in."

Elise walked in wearing a fuzzy blue robe looking a little nervous. "Stephanie, I am sorry to wake you so early. Ranger is here."

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. "Ranger? What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock."

Her announcement jolted me wide awake. "Seven?" He must've caught an earlier flight than we'd hoped and probably rushed straight here from the airport. The thought gave me warm fuzzies somewhere near my heart. And then it hit me that he was here.

Scrambling out of bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and stopped short at what I felt. It was a big tangled mass of curls and snarls. Not to mention that I had morning breath. My saving grace was the shower I'd had last night. At least he was used to seeing me like this or I would have panicked. Then I realized he wasn't used to seeing me this way anymore. Now I was nervous again.

I shrugged into a cardigan, since I didn't have a robe, and said, "Can you tell him I'll be right there? I need the bathroom."

"Certainly."

Elise left the room and I hurried into the small bathroom to quickly use the toilet, brush my teeth, and splash cold water on my face to wake it up. When I was done, I went out to the living room, holding my breath as I turned toward the front door.

There he stood in all his muscled glory. Jean Philippe and Elise were in front of him and his eyes tracked me over their heads. His hair was even shorter than it had been the last time I saw him, cut close to his scalp in a military style. Half a day's beard growth on his face told me he hadn't stopped for anything once he'd landed in Paris. He wore normal clothes: a white t-shirt, blue jeans with a dark brown leather belt, and navy running shoes. No black Rangeman clothes, no military uniform. He was as edible as always, but his expression was like nothing I'd ever seen on him. There was no smile, not even his standard blank look, only pain and awe intermingled across his handsome features.

His dark brown eyes ate up every square inch of me from head to foot. My mind raced with so many thoughts I couldn't zero in on a single one. My chest hurt and I suddenly felt like I was breathing through cotton. I finally found my voice, even if it was hoarse, and said the first coherent thought that popped into my head. "You're here earlier than I expected."

There was no amusement or twitch of the lips. His eyes burned their way up from somewhere around my knees to lock with mine. "I could come back later."

"No way."

I thought I detected a slight twitch of his lips, but his eyes remained unbearably intense and he took a hesitant step forward. Jean Philippe and Elise parted like the Red Sea. I thought he'd come to me but he stopped after that one step. We stood, neither moving, simply watching each other.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elise look between the two of us and then she said, "We'll go make coffee. Please, make yourself at home, Monsieur Mañoso." She and Jean Philippe left the room, but my eyes were too busy gorging themselves on Ranger to really pay much attention.

We stared at each other, rooted to where we stood. His eyes were expressive, full of all the emotions raging inside. I'd never seen him so transparent before. It was as if he felt too raw to make an effort to conceal anything.

When he spoke, he sounded more controlled than he looked. "It's you." I understood his unspoken fear of finding something completely different than he hoped. I knew I would've felt the same way.

"Are you disappointed?" I asked.

In answer, he quickly closed the space between us and wrapped his arms around my waist in a fierce hug, clinging to me, lifting my feet off the ground. His arms were so tight, I could hardly breathe. He held me firm against his chest and I couldn't tell where I ended and he began. His breathing was not as controlled as I was sure he wanted it to be, and I detected a very faint tremble in his muscles as his heart pounded under his ribcage, practically bruising mine in the process. The power of his response nearly sent me into a breakdown.

"No," he said in a thick voice, lowering me to the floor and shifting his hands. He put one to the back of my head, pressing it to his shoulder. His other arm circled my waist and contracted, holding me captive against his body like he wanted to draw me inside his skin.

I buried my face in his neck and held onto his waist. I breathed in his scent and my senses practically screeched to a halt. He smelled good, but different than before. After a minute, I pulled my head back and looked him in the eye. "No Bvlgari?"

He stared at me for a moment and swallowed. "Not after you were gone…" His voice faded away and he looked up at the ceiling for a moment, still as stone. His lips were a taut line and he swallowed a few times before he slowly stepped back, breaking the contact, and lowered shuttered eyes to mine. "Your hair is shorter."

The distance was more than physical and I felt a quick flash of hurt at the wall he'd erected, but this unfamiliar territory had us both at a disadvantage and I decided he probably needed time to adjust to everything. I could understand that and be patient. A little. Or at least I could try.

So, instead of overreacting, I nodded and asked, "Is it okay?"

In answer, he reached up and lightly teased the messy curls with his fingertips. "Beautiful." He didn't smile or lower the shield in his eyes, but I could tell he meant it. I desperately wanted to grab him, to make him look at me the way he used to, but I'd never been a whiner, never begged for a man's attention. I wasn't going to start now.

Instead, I called on all of my restraint and rolled my eyes to lighten the mood. "Liar. My hair's a mess."

He studied my face and I knew he knew how I felt, what I was thinking, but he didn't give. Whatever resolve he'd set in his mind, he was sticking to it. He slipped his hands into his pockets, "I've never once complained."

No, he hadn't. Ever. I blinked away the sudden moisture in my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose, releasing it before speaking. "So, Washington D.C., huh?"

He practically shut down at my question. It wasn't just his eyes that were veiled, but his face, as well. It made him look angry, but I didn't think that was it. The old, stony-faced expression was back. The one he'd always used with other people, not me.

I shook my head slightly. "Sorry, I'm just … at a loss." All I could do was be honest at this point.

"Don't, apologize. We'll talk about it." The 'just not now' was implied. His eyes drifted over my face, still locked down, but with an edge of concern. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

I looked away. I didn't want polite comments or conversation. I wanted him to be happy to see me. The 'throw me up against the nearest wall and make me scream his name' kind of happy. His current behavior confused me and my feelings were hurt.

Just then, Elise came back into the living room with the coffee. "Do not mind me, I am leaving again." She set the tray down on the coffee table and rushed back out.

He watched me for several seconds before speaking. "I borrowed a boat from a friend. Thought you'd enjoy a tour of the city from the Seine." He left unsaid that he'd then have me in a controlled environment where he could assess the threat to my security. Maybe he knew he didn't have to say it. I knew the drill.

"It sounds great. I haven't had a chance to see the city."

"How soon can you be ready?"

"Not too long." I motioned behind me down the hallway. "I need to change and do something with my hair, but I'll hurry. Have some coffee." He looked at the serving tray and then sat on the couch and poured himself a cup.

I went to the little guest room first to change into a pair of jeans shorts, a sapphire blue tank, and the beige sandals I'd had with me at the hostel. After closer inspection last night, I'd realized they were Gucci. My hair was a different story. Conditioning it last night had helped, but my restless night of sleep had done a number on it. Ten minutes of sighing, swearing, and eventually just wetting my hair down, resulted in a miracle: soft, glossy curls falling gently over my head to frame my face.

A swipe of lip balm and two coats of mascara later and I was ready to go. I went to the bedroom and packed my clothes into a small suitcase Elise had gifted me. When I was sure I had everything, I took my suitcase to the living room and set it by the door. Ranger stood, but I held up a finger and went to kitchen. "Ranger and I are going to head out," I said when the couple turned to face me.

"Do you want breakfast? I have it ready for you, Elise said. Jean Philippe stood beside the small counter with a strange smile on his face, not quite happy and not sad.

I eyed the tray and grabbed a croissant and slathered some butter and jam on it. I think I ate it in two bites and grabbed a few sections of orange, popping one into my mouth before giving her a sheepish smile. "Guess I was hungrier than I thought."

Elise smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye and handed me a napkin. "You have some butter on your cheek." I took the square of cloth and began wiping at my face. Her hands settled on my upper arms and squeezed lightly. I felt a twinge of sadness that our time was over and glanced at both of them. Elise read my look and shook her head with a wave of her hand. "Go. You need time together." Then she took the napkin from me.

We hugged tightly and she whispered something in French. I didn't need a translator to know she was telling me she'd miss me. It made tears prick behind my eyelids. When I turned to leave, she called my name gently and I looked back at her. "Give him time to process."

Jean Philippe also hugged me and said. "Love is strongest in times of trouble."

Ranger's presence filled the small kitchen and we looked over to him standing just inside the doorway. "Madame and Monsieur Beaumont," he began, "we'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. If you're free."

I was surprised, both at his formal tone and the suggestion of dinner.

"Please, you need no formality with us. Jean Philippe." Ranger nodded. "Yes, we would love to have dinner with you," Jean Philippe said.

"We'll pick you up. Does 6:30 work?" Ranger asked.

"Yes, perfect. We will be ready."

"We'll be going to _Appréciez_"

Elise's eyes widened slightly. "Thank you. We have never eaten there before."

He smiled. "I know the owners and would like to treat you for taking such good care of Stephanie." Ranger in formal, polite mode was a little different. Then again, a lot of things about Ranger were different right now.

They smiled and Elise clasped her hands in front of her. "It was our pleasure." The couple followed us to the front door and closed it softly behind us with a small wave.

"So," I asked when we got outside, "a boat?"

He nodded.

"But not alone."

"Correct." We walked down the street side by side, not touching. I had to clench my hands to keep from reaching out to grab his hand. Strange how some habits were so ingrained it was nearly a physical fight to resist them.

Turned out the 'boat' was one of the most luxurious houseboats I'd ever seen. It was long and actually quite large. When Ranger first told me he'd borrowed his friend's boat for the day, I'd had to resist wrinkling my nose in distaste. All I could picture was a dirty, dusty boat with nets and fishing equipment lying around, the stale scent of worms and dead fish, and a smoky boat motor. The beautiful, obviously expensive, watercraft we boarded was impeccable and clean, very clean. Just another way for him to broaden my horizons.

The interior and the deck were all a medium stained, gleaming wood. There were deck chairs and a table with an umbrella, and a mini bar that looked to be well stocked. The ceiling inside wasn't high, but it wasn't so low that we couldn't stand comfortably. In the living space were several plush couches and the walls were actually floor to ceiling windows with blinds that could be lowered. Ranger walked over and rapped on one of the windows with his knuckle, then turned to me with his 'almost smile' in place. "Bullet proof glass." I resisted rolling my eyes and explored further.

There was a large bedroom with a very comfortable looking bed low to the floor in the center of the room. Ranger dropped my suitcase, which I'd forgotten in my flustered state, by the door and showed me the bathroom. Inside the surprisingly large room was a shower large enough for two people as well as a large circular tub. Pretty impressive to have either of those on a boat, let alone both.

Throughout the tour, I had to resist the urge to grind my teeth in frustration at the distance he kept between us. Instead, I kept my focus on the details of the rooms and gestured around the kitchen when we reached it. "We don't have to cook, do we?"

"Meals will be provided."

I nodded and then remembered about dinner tonight. "Ranger, I know you're super security conscious right now, but I have nothing to wear to dinner tonight. From Elise's reaction, I'm guessing this restaurant is expensive."

He gave me a smile that didn't quite warm his eyes. I wanted to kiss him to see if it would affect him, but he wasn't making a move toward me and I felt shy, almost rejected by him in a way. What if he didn't want me anymore? I wouldn't even let myself contemplate that he may have moved on. The way things felt right now, it was as if we were back in the 'pre-relationship' days of when we'd first met.

"I've taken care of it."

"Don't tell me Ella made her way here and you've been hiding her." I cast a quick glance around.

The genuine smile I received for my comment nearly made me weak with relief. I'd take any type of happy handed to me today, whether in small doses or not. "No. But my business partner has a wife who loves to shop. She picked up some things for you yesterday after I called him."

"How do you know all of these people? Business partner? What kind of business do you do here? Why am I just now finding this stuff out?" I wasn't sure if I should be offended or excited that he had so many friends in Paris. "And are there French Merry Men?"

He tipped his head back and laughed. The sound washed over my senses and my tension began to ease away. I saw that his did, as well. When he looked back at me, he looked more like _my_ Ranger. "You didn't know because I'd planned to bring you here one day, after we were … settled. I wanted to _show_ you."

I nodded, determined to avoid the reason why that trip never happened. And to keep him relaxed for as long as possible. I could breathe around this Ranger. The other one made every muscle in my body tight and achy … and not in the good way.

He continued and said, "My business partner and I own a security company here that's a lot like Rangeman. I've spent a lot of time here. _Appréciez_ is one of my favorite restaurants, five stars. A few years ago the owners fell onto hard times and I offered to be a silent partner and back the restaurant for them. It's turned out to be a profitable venture for me."

My mouth dropped open, showing my shock. "You own a French security company _and_ a five star French restaurant?"

"Co-own, but yes." He took a step toward me and lifted my jaw with his knuckle, effectively closing my mouth, and withdrew his hand. His light touch was brief, but he stayed in close proximity, making me a bit breathless. "Did I satisfy your curiosity?

There were so many more important things I wanted him to satisfy right then, I had to remind myself what his actual question was before I spoke again.

"Almost. What about the French Merry Men?"

He smiled a little. "There are men working at the security company here who are like the guys back home. _You_ would no doubt call them French Merry Men. Same rules apply, though: not to their faces. They wouldn't appreciate it."

I shook my head slightly with a crooked smile and motioned around us. "Okay, so this boat is your business partner's." He nodded and I continued. "And Chaz is your employee." I received another short nod. "What is the company called? Not Rangeman…"

"Sécurité de Hilliard." I'd been right at breakfast with Jean Philippe yesterday. The female population was _not _ready for a French-speaking Ranger. I thought the synapses in my brain shorted out just from him speaking a _name_. He hadn't even spoken a complete sentence and I was already drooling.

"How about the city tour?"

I nodded yes to him and followed him up a short flight of wooden steps and through a sleek door in the glass wall.

He led me out onto the deck and the boat pulled away from the dock. We glided down the river, the boat captained by an unknown person. I'd place high bets that it was a French Merry Man, though.

As we went along, I studied Ranger more than the city sights. His eyes were weary and there were more lines at the corners, as if he'd aged five years in the past ten months. It made me sad that it had been on my account.

Buildings and landmarks floated by, but I barely gave them a passing glance. I appreciated the history, but my thoughts were occupied by Ranger. He pointed out the Eiffel Tower, La Conciergerie, the Louvre, Notre Dame Cathedral, and various other landmarks whose names I didn't recognize, giving me a little information at times when I looked confused. I made the appropriate noises of appreciation, but my heart wasn't in it.

We sat, had coffee, and watched Paris float by. It was almost like a dream. Maybe more like a nightmare. Here I was in Paris. With Ranger. And we were sitting in lounge chairs on the deck of a house boat, taking a romantic cruise down the Seine. But wait, it wasn't romantic. That sinister and scary feeling was back. Time had turned dark for me, an enemy I couldn't see that seemed to be destroying my life one life event at a time.

I looked at Ranger, who stared out ahead of us toward the water, and wondered what all had changed for the millionth time since I first saw him in the Beaumonts' living room. Was he merely on edge and in super security mode or had the absence hardened his resolve against relationships? Maybe he was living it high as a bachelor in Washington D.C. and didn't want the strain of a relationship back in his life. I didn't know because the damn man wouldn't talk. The thought of the latter two made my stomach twist painfully.

A man, whom Ranger called Arnaud, materialized from the cabin and laid out an early lunch on the table near the end of the deck. He was every bit as Merry Manly as all the others I'd known in my life, but shorter than most at a couple of inches taller than me with dark auburn hair, pale blue eyes, and a ruddy complexion that somehow didn't look unattractive on him. His presence made me wonder how many were on the boat.

I flicked my glance to Ranger and, true to his observant nature, he leaned close to whisper, "I'm not taking any chances, now or ever." He was so close I could smell his new scent, but I still couldn't place it. Had he picked it out, asked Ella to buy a different one, or had someone else picked it out for him? An ache deep enough to affect my breathing exploded in my chest. God, everything was so screwed up.

He leaned back and returned to his meal, so I dug in, pretending that everything was fine and normal. At least I had food to distract me. It helped, somewhat. There was cracked crab, roasted asparagus, sliced fruit, fresh vegetables with a spicy, no doubt low-calorie dip, and a superb croissant-like pastry for dessert with dark chocolate inside. When I asked what it was, Ranger told me it was called _pan __au __chocolat_. The combination of buttery bread with slightly bitter, lightly sweet chocolate was incredible. I happily ate up every bite, needing the fortitude from the sugar to settle my nerves.

Ranger spoke to Arnaud and another man, this one very tall and pale blonde with a deep tan. He was all business and all muscle. He appeared now and then to speak to Ranger from almost the moment lunch was served. They always spoke in French, which made me feel left out, especially since that might have been the point. Each time Ranger spoke the language, his deep voice forming the words like a caress over his tongue, I stared at him, remembering the way his tongue caressed my skin. At one point, he stopped with an abrupt turn and stared at me so intently, it felt like a physical touch.

Interesting that the desire appeared to be there, just no action. My confusion and frustration levels were higher than ever, but I didn't want to have it out with him in front of his men so turned my head to watch the scenery float by instead.

After lunch, he sat in one of the loungers again and I joined him, leaving one seat between us. I decided if there was going to be a gap between us it might as well be physical, too. After fighting my emotions and base reactions all day, it took only a nanosecond for me to lose my patience with him altogether. I pushed myself up from the seat and walked past him over to the rail at the bow, leaning over it on my elbows. I looked down at the sloshing and churning waters splitting apart to pass on either side for a few minutes before he came to stand beside me in silence, waiting.

Part of me wanted to fly at him, beat on his chest, or punch him outright, but I knew it wouldn't help. First, it would hurt — me, not him. Second, nothing could make him do something he didn't want to do, so there was no point attacking him. That thought sent my temper boiling. Damn it, why had he even come? He could have sent someone else to babysit me and figure out how to get me home. The logical part of my brain lost out to the irrational, hurt part and I spoke before I realized it.

"What is your deal?" My voice was quiet and I turned to face him with my hands on my hips and eyes narrowed.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

**_A/N: Okay, I know I said I was posting updates on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. I've just received my 150th review and I'm so pleased about it that I'm posting chapter seven tonight as a bonus. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers. It's my greatest reward to experience my story through your eyes and emotions. There are a few of you I haven't been able to personally respond to because you do not allow messaging. I hope you know who you are and that I send my heartfelt thanks to you._**

_**Notice**: Rating will change to "M" on this chapter and going forward. I decided it was probably safest. Yes, that means there is a **smut warning** for this chapter. There are also violence warnings for the future._

...

From Chapter Six:

_Part of me wanted to fly at him, beat on his chest, or punch him outright, but I knew it wouldn't help. First, it would hurt — me, not him. Second, nothing could make him do something he didn't want to do, so there was no point attacking him. That thought sent my temper boiling. Damn it, why had he even come? He could have sent someone else to babysit me and figure out how to get me home. The logical part of my brain lost out to the irrational, hurt part and I spoke before I realized it._

_"What is your deal?" My voice was quiet and I turned to face him with my hands on my hips and eyes narrowed._

…

Chapter 7

"My deal?"

"Yeah. This whole 'not touching' thing is very confusing." My fingers formed air quotes to emphasize the phrase. "I used to be able to figure you out. We had this sync between us, but now? I'm not sure what to think." I sighed and pulled in an even breath, trying to calm myself down. "I know what happened was awful for you. I can't imagine how I would have handled it." I started to pace away from him.

He let me go, he hadn't moved since my tirade started. I turned around and made the return trip, spreading my hands out in a helpless gesture. "I don't know what's going on. If you need more time, if you are struggling to believe this is real, or if you've moved on and there's someone else—" I couldn't finish my statement or look at him while I spoke, but had turned to the rail, head down to watch the water speeding by against the side of the boat.

I felt his stare turn cold, so cold that it chilled my skin. It was cold enough that even the air around him seemed to freeze. I resisted the urge to look at him and fought the shiver that threatened to pass through my body. His icy voice asked, "Why would you think there's someone else?"

I blew out the breath I'd been holding and stared straight in front of me at the passing buildings along the waterfront as I answered. "You're different. _My _Ranger couldn't keep his hands off me, always invaded my space when we were alone, and did little things to show me he knew me and cared about me. That man was crazy about me."

Turning around to take a few steps away again, I jittered with a feeling of nervous agitation trembling just beneath my skin. I didn't like his silence and lack of response. I turned around to face him, but didn't move toward him. "I've told myself all morning — through the tour, the chitchat, lunch, and the short history lesson on 'Ranger in Paris' — that I needed to be patient. Hell, Elise told me to be patient. But I can't do this, Ranger. I can't sit here and hope and wonder and get nothing back from you. Just tell me, tell me now, so at least I know what to expect."

His voice was just above a growl, more like a hoarse whisper, when he said, "I'm not the same man, Stephanie." I should have taken his tone as a sign to stop, but I was on a roll now and I was determined to have this thing out.

"Oh? Help me understand, Ranger." I folded my arm under my breasts and raised a fist to press it against my mouth, fighting my own growl of frustration. When I was sure I wouldn't resort to animal noises, I lowered my hand and asked, "Why did you come here? To satisfy your curiosity and make sure that I really wasn't killed? If so, you can go back. Mystery solved." What possessed me to say those words, to try to send away the only person who could help me get home, I had no idea. I began walking toward the cabin, still upset, but also feeling bad because I'd gone too far and acted like a child. What I'd said wasn't what I feared. Wasn't what I'd intended to say and I wasn't even sure where the words had come from.

Not even a full two steps into my retreat, his hand clamped down on my upper arm and he whipped me around to face him, firm enough to make me gasp, but somehow not hurting me in the process. His free hand circled my other arm and he gave me a slight shake. "I'm not the same man because I went through hell, Stephanie. Hell. Maybe I'm afraid."

I shook my head, my eyes burning with the effort not to cry, still unable to meet his eyes straight on. "You're never afraid," I whispered.

He gave me another shake and said, "Damn you for being so stubborn." Then he yanked me against his chest. "I never knew what _real_ fear was until I came back to your empty apartment. Not with Abruzzi, not with Stiva, not even with Scrog. Not like that night. When I didn't know how to find you—"

Potent pain seized my heart at the images running through my head of Ranger trying to deal with something he couldn't fix, couldn't change. This man, a true badass with iron will and legendary control, had not been able to stop his own fear. Finally, I looked up and met eyes full of rage, pain, and struggle.

The second our gazes locked, he seethed, "Moved on? With what life? You were gone."

Instantly, he released one of my arms and began a fast walk across the deck to the cabin, pulling me alongside him. He moved so quickly, I practically tripped over my feet to keep up with him. He was rough, almost violent, as we closed in on the bedroom door. I should have been afraid, but the truth was that it was hot. Super hot. And I wanted more. Much, much more.

Once he maneuvered us through the door, he slammed it shut so hard I thought it would jump off its hinges. Then his hands were on me everywhere, tugging off my clothes, gripping my hair. His brisk movements took my breath away.

Before I knew it we were both naked and he had me under the arms, up against his chest on my tiptoes at his eye level. "I'm still yours," he hissed. Then he kissed me. Not the gentle hello kisses he always gave me first thing in the morning. Not the passionate, needy kisses after a few days apart when we were both busy. These kisses seared my very soul. They were rough, emotional, and more intense than anything we'd shared in the past.

His tongue swept through my mouth like wildfire, giving and taking, consuming me in his heat. He knelt on the bed, his muscles bulging as he maneuvered me to the center with one arm holding me around the waist, the other on the bed to balance us. Then he came down on top of me, his hands like flames over my skin, igniting every inch of skin he touched.

"I need you. Now," he rumbled against my lips.

Oh God was I ready. I dug my fingers into his back, urging him on. "I'm … yours," I whispered brokenly. With a roar that sounded more like agony than pleasure, he surged forward, then froze, eyes closed, panting hard. I gasped from the sheer force of his invasion, not from pain, but from the release of emotions. Tears sprang to my eyes. Though I hadn't felt the separation of months as he had, I felt his torment and clung to him.

"You okay?" he gasped with considerable effort, waiting, his eyes blazing with wild passion.

I nodded my head and smiled through the veil of tears and arched my hips upward to encourage him since I couldn't speak through my closed throat.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered as he withdrew, "but I can't stop."

"Go," I moaned out. And he did. His thrusts were hard, deep, and tore into my heart. I felt every emotion he'd experienced when I went missing as they came pouring out of him: fear, anger, despair. Each thrust seemed to purge his head and his heart of the demons he'd collected. When I finally cried out with a climax that was almost a religious experience, he continued to pound into me with a ferocity that should have scared me.

Instead, my hormones built up quickly and I was surprised by an explosion as intense as the first. His name spilled from my lips and he followed me over with a harsh shout against my throat, pulsing within me, pouring his heart out into me.

We lay locked together, sweaty and shaking, in the middle of the bed. Arms gripped around slick bodies, legs tangled together, and hearts beating as one drumbeat against the other. He remained still, his mouth pressed to that sensitive spot behind my ear, gasping in deep gulps of air.

Finally his lips nipped at the thin skin pressed against them, tasting the saltiness of my sweat, nibbled down to the crook of my neck, and then he groaned before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I tried to wait until I had more control, so I could be gentle, slow." I felt his smile against my collarbone. "You never were very patient."

It was true. "Perfect," I mumbled against his hair with a satisfied smile. And then I wanted him to know more than anything how I felt, so he'd always know no matter what happened. "I love you."

He froze. Just when I started to panic about my declaration, he said, "You said it."

"I know." I smiled briefly and then sobered. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before — before."

He sucked in a slow breath and exhaled a puff of warm air against my neck, raising his head to meet my eyes. "I love you, too. I promised myself if we found you, I'd tell you. Every day." He kissed my jaw and then my lips. "With everything I am, I love you."

I smiled, despite the fact that my lips trembled from holding in my tears, and stroked my hands down his back. We loved each other. We were facing the unknown right now, but as long as I had his love I could get through anything. "Mmm," I murmured and slid both of my hands through his sweat slicked hair, then smiled when he moved onto his side to draw me into his arms, my back to his front, just like old times

Except then he went completely rigid. I tried to turn to look at him, but he pulled me close, keeping us locked in a spoon position. I asked, "You okay?"

He didn't answer right away, so I tried to break free and turn over, but he tightened his arms around my waist and pulled me close. "Nothing to worry about right now, babe," he said, leaning down to kiss just below the base of my neck and lingering there for a moment before exhaling and letting the tension leave his body. I snuggled in and enjoyed the feel of having his arms around me again.

We held each other for a long time, our hearts and bodies spent from the argument and the intense lovemaking. No conversation needed. We fell asleep, bodies pressed together as if they couldn't stand any separation. A while later, I woke to the feel of his mouth working its way down my neck. "We need to get ready for dinner," he said quietly.

I glanced at the clock. It was only four. "It's early, can't we sleep some more?" It'd been the best sleep I'd had since waking up in this city.

"I never said I wanted a quick shower."

Oh.

…

Ranger had arranged for a limo to take us to the restaurant. It pleased me no end to see the excitement on Jean Philippe and Elise's faces when they climbed in. Dinner was everything I expected. Ranger was not. The man had always proven he was capable in any situation, so my surprise was unwarranted, but still, seeing Ranger in 'upper crust' mode was a huge jolt to my system.

The older couple was impressed with Ranger, which wasn't a surprise at all. Even though he operated in the street most of the time, he had good manners and I suspected their observation had more to do with how he treated me than anything. Still, I could hardly allow myself to blink because I didn't want to miss anything from his interaction with the wait staff to the conversation he held with the Beaumont's in French.

Later, after we'd dropped Jean Philippe and Elise off at their apartment building, after a slightly tearful goodbye and promises to stay in touch, I turned to Ranger, openly studying him.

"Something on your mind?" The slow, easy smile he gave me made every muscle south of my ribs tighten pleasurably.

I licked my lips and gave myself a mental headshake, reminding myself to focus on his question. There had been something on my mind and I was sure it hadn't been sex.

"Babe?"

I looked at his face and concentrated hard, ignoring the amused tilt of his mouth, and nodded. "Yes. There is." He raised an eyebrow and I lifted my arm, pointing back in the direction of the restaurant. "What was that?"

"Which 'that' do you mean? The restaurant, or the schmooze act?"

"Oh, definitely the schmooze."

He grinned. "Just another disguise. Good or bad?"

"Not sure," I said, studying him with narrowed eyes. "The date isn't over, yet."

Ranger grew completely serious and leaned toward me, curling an arm behind my back and cupping my cheek with his free hand. "Hate to break it to you, but when it comes to this, I don't play. I don't act. I'm me, and that's all I'll ever be when it's just us."

I wasn't certain I could respond given the sudden swelling of my throat and eyes. I nodded and pulled him close by the lapels, grasping them in my hands to stop their trembling. Never had I experienced anything as honest as what I had with him. It was an incomparable freedom I'd never settle without now.

He pulled me against him and kissed me with a potency that punctuated his statement. I couldn't help but think how strange the day had been. Emotions on high, tempers with short fuses, and then a happiness so true I was afraid at some point I'd wake up and find it'd been a dream.

The limo stopped in front of a very pricey looking hotel. I ducked my head to look out the passenger window so I could see up the building's façade, taking in the detail, and then glanced up at Ranger.

He shrugged slightly. "The boat was only for today. We need a headquarters."

Right. The big mystery. I stared at Ranger and he stared back. The silent agreement was somehow made without any expression or words: tonight was about us and us alone.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

Chapter 8

Later in the night, we lay in each other's arms in silence, fingers idly stroking, and our breathing slow and even. I felt the second Ranger woke because his body tensed as if startled, and then his arms tightened to steel bands, restricting my breathing a little. I lifted my head to see his eyes staring at me, looking haunted and troubled.

"Ranger?"

"You're really here," he said so quietly I had to strain to hear him.

"Yes, I am." I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and tilted my head forward to kiss him lightly.

He loosened his grip a little when our lips touched, thankfully. Not that I minded him holding me tight, but I needed air. For the second time since I'd known him, I saw him press his lips together in an attempt to stem his emotions. That was the only visible hint of his loss of composure, except I noticed that his breathing rate was slightly elevated. After a good thirty seconds, he spoke. "I lost you. I couldn't protect you and you were gone." His voice betrayed the sharp emotions cutting him to pieces inside. I'd never heard him sound so beaten down.

I pressed my forehead to his. "It wasn't your fault." He was silent and this time I squeezed _him_. "This wasn't your fault."

He kissed my neck and whispered something I couldn't hear. I was going to ask him to repeat himself, but he said, "I got you back."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming," I said quietly.

"No buts. We have work to do, but it can wait," he said, kissing my nose and then my eyelids.

Now that we'd opened the can, my curiosity got the better of me. I opened my eyes and pushed on his shoulder slightly so he'd pull back a little. "Did you find anything helpful to give us a start? A lead, a contact?" He paused, a hesitant look on his face. "This is my life, Ranger, and I've lost so much of it. I lost all that time with you and that hurts more than just about everything else," I said. "Please don't hide things from me. We'd finally gotten past it."

"There's not much right now. Tank's bringing everything we've found," he murmured, tucking my head under his chin.

"Tank?" I asked as excitement to see my friend fluttered in my chest.

"Yeah." He kissed the top of my head. "Let's sleep." He kissed me, sliding his tongue against mine for several minutes, and then moved his leg between mine. I hooked mine over his thigh and our arms settled into comfortable places around each other. "Missed you," he said quietly.

I nodded, unsure of what to say. I'd missed him, but it wasn't the same and we both knew it.

…

In the morning, I woke up with a smile on my face and Ranger's possessive embrace around me. Since he was still sleeping, I took time to process the previous day and last night. For the first time since waking at the hostel, I really understood how much everything had afflicted him. I knew he would have mourned, but seeing it firsthand was an eye opener. Even when we were in a relationship, he hadn't clung to me. We'd start out holding each other, but would eventually move into our sleep positions. Last night, he'd never once let go of me. His mouth and hands were reverent in his lovemaking, as if he were memorizing everything about me all over again.

Unable to sleep, I'd smiled when he woke in the middle of the night, his fingertips trailing down my cheek, neck, and body. My brain finally settled down enough to sleep, but shortly after I woke because he'd called out to me. He was asleep with a slight frown on his lips. I kissed it away and stroked his cheek and whispered that I was okay, wishing I could undo the past and take away his pain.

Now, as he woke up, his fingers twitched and his arms contracted around me, pinning me against his body. Heavy lids opened and a lazy smile spread across his face. He kept his eyes open as he dipped his head down to kiss me. "Morning, babe."

"Morning, Ranger."

He bent his head to nip my collarbone. "Shower?"

"That depends. Is this a solo or group activity?" I narrowed my eyes and gave him a sly look.

He nipped my earlobe and whispered, "I have plans for you." Then he lifted me out of bed and carried me to the bathroom. I decided after that experience I'd never look at showering the same way again.

While we were still drying off, I heard the door to the suite open and snapped my towel lightly at Ranger. "You said we had time before Tank came."

"That was before round two."

"Round two wasn't my idea! Ranger, I have no clothes here," I hissed.

"You do, I arranged with Arnaud to have our things dropped off." His lips twitched when I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Yo!" Tank's voice boomed out.

Ranger lifted an eyebrow at me and sauntered out into the bedroom, calling, "Tank."

I towel dried my hair and finger combed it into some semblance of submission while I waited for clothes, fighting the anxious excitement of seeing Tank again, especially after our phone conversation.

He returned two minutes later with my suitcase in hand. "I'd hurry."

I rolled my eyes and bent down to release the latches. Ranger gently lifted my chin with his knuckle. I stopped moving and looked up at him. We stared at each other in silence. The conversation needed no words. He apologized that it was time for business and I let him know I understood. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss my forehead in thanks, then he left the bathroom. I returned to my task of digging through my clothes and pulled out a pair of beige linen shorts and a knit camisole in lavender with a built in bra. After quickly dressing, I headed out to the living room.

Tank's large, hulking figure loomed in the center of the room. I stared up into dark eyes, taking in the massive bulk of the monster torso in front of me. We both stared at each other for a moment. Finally, I breathed "Hey" in a quiet voice.

He blinked and I saw moisture in his eyes, though he tried to hide it. He looked at Ranger. "Look away, man." He crossed the room and pulled me into a huge bear hug, then pressed a loud, smacking kiss to my lips that shocked me all the way to my toes before he set me back down. "Sweetness, I can't believe it's you. It was hard to believe the other day—"

"What the hell?"

I heard a familiar, but astonished, voice from behind Tank and leaned to the side to see Lester standing at the door to the suite, having just come in, with a stunned expression on his face, hands hanging limply to his sides. He was frozen in place and not a muscle twitched. Tank, with a smug look on his face, turned slightly toward him to say, "Told you this trip would be worth it, didn't I?"

Lester finally raised a hand and pointed at me. "She's…"

Tank nodded and a huge grin replaced the serious look from a moment ago. "Alive."

I stepped around Tank and held up my arms. Lester charged toward me and scooped me up into a tight hug. He kissed my cheek, then closed his eyes and held me against his chest for a minute before setting me back down.

"I never expected this, Blue Eyes," Lester said.

I stepped back and looked around to see if I'd missed anyone else, but there were no others. Then I looked at Tank and asked, "You didn't tell him?"

He shrugged. "Thought it would be easier for the man to see for himself."

When I looked back at Lester and smiled, he gave a quick shake to his head in disbelief, then looked at Ranger, Tank, and finally back at me for a second before turning to look at Ranger again. "All right, I want to know what the fuck is going on."

Ranger indicated to the seating area and we followed him. There were two small armchairs, a large square coffee table, a couch, and a couple of floor lamps. Tank awkwardly squeezed into one of the chairs, dwarfing it. Lester took the other leaving the couch open. Ranger and I sat down and he surprised me by taking my hand even though he was in business mode.

Ranger looked at Lester. "Tank give you any assignments, yet?"

Lester shook his head and said, "No. In fact, I'd just started to hound him about what the hell you needed me for in Paris."

I gave a start at Lester's speech. No one ever talked to Ranger that way, at least none of his men. Ranger acknowledged my shock and said, "Lester no longer works for me. Technically."

"What? Why?" I looked at Lester and then to Ranger with my eyebrow raised, confused as to why Lester would leave RangeMan.

Ranger cleared his throat and said, "Because, I took a military career and left Trenton. I still own RangeMan, but I'm not involved with the business anymore."

His statement disoriented me for a moment, but then I remembered the phone call in Madge's office. "Warrant Officer," I murmured. "What is a Warrant Officer, anyway? When I first heard it, I thought it had to do with bond enforcement."

"Supervisory position with Special Ops. I conduct some tactical training and consult on operational plans."

I soaked that information in and then leaned back against the seat. "I can't believe you re-enlisted. You never had plans to do that … before."

"That was before."

Shit. I couldn't go there again right now so I sucked in a slow breath through my teeth and looked at Lester. "But you still work for RangeMan."

With a nod, he said, "Tank is the Interim CEO. At least until Ranger's contract is up. Some people are hoping he'll come back." It was obvious he wasn't one of them. Curious.

I flicked a glance at Tank and gave him a half smile, then faced Ranger. "Why?"

He turned toward me, eyes not fully meeting mine and masked to cover his emotions, but the memories of him calling out to me in his sleep last night reminded me just how much he'd suffered. "Just needed to leave town for a while."

"After I died," I said, completing the sentence.

He didn't answer me and I didn't need an answer. His actions said everything. He'd told me he had no life to move on with yesterday on the boat. He'd redirected his life as a result of losing me. A faint memory replayed in my head. A night not long after we started dating.

"_Why me?"_

"_What?"_

_I smiled against his chest. We were on my lumpy couch, snuggling together in the dark, just body heat and heartbeats. "You could have any woman, more than one. I could name a few who'd be only too happy to see you naked."_

_His arm tightened around my shoulders and I felt his lips graze the top of my head. "You wanted more than a naked mercenary."_

_I squeezed him. "Yep. I wanted the man."_

_His voice had turned almost melancholy then. "You're the only one for me, babe. If I lost you, it'd all go up in smoke."_

He'd proven he meant every word with the choices he made when he thought I died. "I don't know whether to be flattered or to tell you what a stupid fuck you are." My voice was soft, but serious. His eyes widened fractionally and I heard light coughs from Tank and Lester.

"God, Blue Eyes, you're still ornery as ever. I missed having you around," Lester said.

I waved his comment off and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "Tell me all about home. How's my family? Mary Lou? Lula? RangeMan?" My demand was met with an awkward silence. I waved my hand in the air across their lines of vision. "Uh, guys?"

Tank sighed and started. "Looks like I'm it…" His words triggered a strong bout of apprehension in me. "First, everyone you know is still at RangeMan, except Bobby." He gulped and lowered his eyes to the table. "He was shot in the line of duty going after a skip and didn't make it."

I jerked in surprise. Not Bobby. I lowered my head and gave it a small shake as remorse rolled through me. I didn't want to believe it, but the proof was in the silence surrounding me, that unmistakable respect for a fallen comrade.

"Who shot him?" I asked.

Lester spoke up quietly. "Doesn't matter, it was the last thing he did."

I looked sharply at him and he shrugged. "He got his shot off same time as Bobby got his off. Died instantly. Bastard." The way he clenched his jaw made it clear the guy was lucky he'd died so quickly. Lester rubbed his jaw and sat up. "Some good stuff happened, too."

Ranger and Tank seemed to relax. I understood. It hurt to think about Bobby and realize I'd never see his quirky smile again or hear him tease me as we sparred. I swallowed the lump in my throat and croaked, "Oh? Like what?"

"Uh, Lula and I got married," Tank said quietly.

I smiled, happy for both of my friends despite the delay in my own happiness. "Seriously? Wow. What about the cats?"

He shrugged. "Gave a few away to friends, kept two. I let her pick."

I couldn't help laughing. "That's great. Glad you guys got back together." Then I frowned as a disturbing thought hit me. "Did you tell her where you were going?"

Tank sobered. "No, I didn't want to get her hopes up in case, uh—"

No explanation needed there. "Okay," I said, "but, damn, you're going to have hell to pay when she finds out."

He gulped and nodded, then changed the subject, "Uh, Connie is married to an accountant. New guy that moved to Trenton at Christmas. They have a kid on the way."

"Wow." Literally, wow. Connie married and to an accountant? I couldn't picture the scenario in my head at all. And the whole baby thing? I shuddered. The thought of motherhood still scared me and I struggled to put the words 'Connie' and 'mother' together in the same sentence. "She still working for Vinnie?"

"No. Harry shut down the business, so Vinnie and Lucille moved to Florida. They couldn't get anyone worth a shit to get skips for him, couldn't afford RangeMan's prices," he said. With a shrug, he muttered, "You weren't around, so we weren't around."

"Couldn't have happened to a better guy," I said and was met with three gorgeous male smiles, something I could definitely get used to seeing again on a regular basis.

"We do bonds at RangeMan now," Tank said. "Started with a private backer, but we've been successful and hope to buy him out before the end of the year."

I beamed a huge smile at him. "Good for you. I always thought RangeMan might as well incorporate bonds with its services. Nice to know you did and it worked out."

"Never knew, babe," Ranger said.

"Just thoughts in my head," I said. I tapped my temple with my index finger. "You don't know _all_ of them." This brought a round of snickers which he silenced with a look. At least they still respected him on some level.

"And Morelli's still in New York," Tank said. "Too bad, too. Trenton could use a good cop like him, though Eddie got promoted to Morelli's old detective spot and he's doing well."

My smile widened and then my lip trembled slightly. Eddie and I had been good friends and I would have loved to congratulate him, take him out for pizza and beer. I decided I'd still do it … as soon as I got home. "That's great. I'm proud of him."

I paused before asking, "Does anyone know how Mary Lou was, you know, after … uh, everything?"

He shook his head. "About as bad as you'd expect. Lula, too. You know she gave up donuts and cake? Still hasn't touched them since, won't look at them. Said it just didn't feel right eating it if you couldn't anymore. I thought she was gonna waste away to nothing, but luckily she didn't give up her ribs or McDonalds."

A brief smile crossed my lips. Tank liked his women with a more substantial girth to them.

He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest before saying, "Mary Lou was a wreck for a while. Lenny's mom had to go stay with them for a couple of months. I won't lie. It'll be hard when you return. Good, but difficult."

Damn. I blinked several times. The thought of my friends and family mourning like that over me both humbled and horrified me. I never wanted to have that kind of attention _during _life and hated that I'd gotten it after death — even if it was a fake one.

Then it hit me. "Why haven't you said anything about my family? What happened?"

Tank looked at Ranger and then I looked at Ranger. "Something's wrong."

"We weren't hiding it from you," he began.

I knew whatever he had to tell me wasn't good and stood up to pace in front of the couch, carefully avoiding the table and Ranger's feet. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" I asked, afraid to hear what he had to say.

"No."

His answer spiked my blood pressure up several notches. I didn't want more bad news, but I needed to know so I stopped in front of him, hands on my hips … waiting.

He stood up and pulled me into a gentle embrace. I held myself rigid, not allowing him to mold me against him. "There's been a death in your family."


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: *Eleven degrees mentioned below is in Celsius, or about 52 degrees Fahrenheit._

…

FromChapter8:

_I knew whatever he had to tell me wasn't good and stood up to pace in front of the couch, carefully avoiding the table and Ranger's feet. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" I asked, afraid to hear what he had to say._

_"No."_

_His answer spiked my blood pressure up several notches. I didn't want more bad news, but I needed to know so I stopped in front of him, hands on my hips … waiting._

_He stood up and pulled me into a gentle embrace. I held myself rigid, not allowing him to mold me against him. "There's been a death in your family."_

…

Chapter 9

I wanted to deny someone in my family could be dead. My head spun and I felt weak and dizzy. I slumped down onto the couch and, staring at the floor, gasped out, "Who?"

Ranger pulled me into his arms and tucked my head under his chin. "Your grandma. I'm sorry, babe."

"What?" I squeaked out on a strangled whisper.

"She got very sick shortly after your funeral and never recovered."

Grandma Mazur. Dead. I had no idea how to process that news. I let myself believe nothing the spunky woman would live forever, but she didn't. I'd been her downfall. We'd always been close, understood each other, and I imagined she took my 'death' harder than anyone. I hadn't gotten to say goodbye.

As if I'd only heard him subconsciously, the second part of Ranger's statement struck me somewhere between the eyes. If I'd taken time to _really_consider that I'd been 'dead', I would have realized there'd been a funeral for me. But I hadn't thought about it in those terms. Because I wasn't dead.

Thinking about funerals seemed to zap something inside my brain. A strange sensation seeped into my body and I suddenly struggled to keep my eyes open. Ranger gripped my upper arms and gave me a slight shake. I heard him talking to me, but I couldn't understand him because of the rushing sound in my ears. My limbs felt heavy and slow. Soon, fatigue overtook me and I shut down, getting sucked away in a white haze. The last thing I thought before Ranger's face faded out of view was how fucked up my life had become and I didn't have anything to do with it.

...

_Muffled male voices called to me, but I didn't want to listen to them. I was in a fuzzy, dreamy state of mind and confusion edged out rational thought. I knew instinctively that waking up would bring deep emotional pain. I feared the unknown surrounding me because the further I drifted, the more I seemed to forget. The voices were gone now and I felt myself float away, a whisper of a spirit transcending space and time and wandering through a sea of nothing._

_Snapshots of places and people flashed before my eyes, but I couldn't remember who I was and who they were. When I heard the ocean, I was comforted and moved toward it. Soon, it was all I could hear and the wispy, ethereal world dissipated and I materialized through the fog, standing in a bathroom and staring into a mirror._

_I blinked my eyes a few times and shook my head slightly. Why had I come into the bathroom? I looked down at the vanity and saw my tube of lip balm and smiled slightly, relaxing. I was almost concerned I didn't remember coming in here, but then I remembered the daydream of three uncommonly good looking men and laughed lightly. When I allowed my imagination to run, it really ran, but it was time to get back to reality._

_The thought of where I was going sobered me and I studied my reflection in the beveled vanity mirror over the sink. My beautiful dark, curly locks were gone. The need for life-saving surgery to remove a brain tumor had far surpassed my pride. It had been three months and I now had an inch and a half of soft brown hair on my head that already curled gently against my scalp. I could have worn a wig, but it didn't seem worth it. I was a survivor now, and proud to be so. _

_My heels clicked on the stone floor of the bathroom and then swooshed softly on the plush carpet in my bedroom. I cast my eyes over the spotless living space and felt peace wash over me. The neutral tones and comfort of the room always filled me with serenity and soothed me now before the upcoming difficult event. I'd lost so much. It seemed I'd never stop losing: first, my mother when I was just a child, and now both my father and Teo, my fiancé of less than a month._

_I walked over to my dressing table and sat on the cream colored stool, tracing a fingertip over the cream and gold marble surface. Like a powerful tidal wave of horror, memories of my mother screaming as a man attacked her flooded my mind. I could never seem to remember anything before that day and I couldn't really remember much after it, up to the last few years. _

_Fear, habitual and potent, reared itself up and consumed me. A shaky sob warbled from my throat as my body began to tremble with a violence that left me incapacitated and unable to move. Damn my traitorous body falling back into old habits. I slid off the stool to the floor, moving to my side to curl my body up into a tight ball, forehead to my knees. The fear monster spoke to me, telling me that I couldn't leave this sanctuary. The room was my protective force field and no one could sneak up on me or harm me if I kept myself protected in its familiar walls._

_I nearly succumbed to the power of the beast, but rational thought broke through the vice around my soul. Even when I had locked myself inside a bubble of my own creation, I'd still lost everything that was important to me. My self-induced confinement hadn't saved me from pain and couldn't spare my life. When my father and lover died, I'd made the decision that I would begin to live free from my fear and inner prison._

_Determined to move forward, I pushed myself up from the floor and reclaimed the stool. A knock on the door announced the current champion of my newfound strength. I stood and smoothed my clothing and my hair, what little of it there was, and then strode purposefully over to the door, teetering on wobbly legs._

_I turned the knob and swung open the heavy, hand-carved piece of craftsmanship genius with a happy smile. Standing quietly on the other side was my greatest supporter and friend — Giuseppe Marotta. His short stature didn't diminish the protective power of his love. This man represented the end of my journey of fear. In scarcely over a month, I'd learned to find my backbone and gained more courage each day._

_"Camila, you look beautiful." He entered my room and took both of my hands in his, pressing a kiss to the knuckles on each._

_"Thank you, Seppe."_

_Still holding my hands, he spread his arms wide and took in my crimson sweater, black wool slacks, black leather boots with a moderate heel, and the tasteful pearl necklace at my throat. "Will you be warm enough? It is only eleven degrees* today."_

_I smiled, thankful I'd moved into his home before the Christmas holidays began. Mid-December was the hardest time for me. It was my mother's birthday in a few days and mine was the day after Christmas. I knew I wouldn't survive this time of year alone, especially after the recent loss of loved ones. Seppe had been caring and affectionate. I appreciated the way he always considered my best interests because I needed someone to trust right now. Because of that, I took his counsel willingly. "I have a wrap. Just a moment."_

_I went to my closet and withdrew my black sable. One of my favorite fall accessories. I walked back to Seppe, slipping the soft, warm fabric around my shoulders, and picked up my knit cloche from the small table beside the door. "Okay, I'm ready."_

_Ten minutes later, we walked arm in arm through the Marotta's private cemetery which was adjacent to the grounds where his practically impenetrable compound stood. Five generations of Seppe's family were buried here. The history astounded me. I could only name one generation in my family, and only two people at that: my parents. I looked at tombstone after tombstone of Marottas, but then my eyes fell on the two stones that seemed misplaced and my steps slowed._

_Seppe released my arm and raised his hand to my cheek, leaning in to place a kiss on the opposite side. "Are you sure, my dove?" He'd called me that since my first day in his home. I'd been a wounded bird then and, though I'd since learned to stand on my own, the endearment had stuck._

_I nodded. "I need to do this." He patted my cheek once more and I leaned forward to hug him. "I won't be long."_

_"I'll be right here with you." He put his hands in his coat pockets and stood in place behind me, guarding me as I approached the freshly carved granite obelisks for the first time since they'd been erected. The smooth, shiny black surfaces gleamed in the bright morning sunlight. I looked at the chiseled writing on one of the stones. It read: _Mario Giuliani Francesci, beloved father_ and listed his birth date and the date of death as 4 October 2010. The other stone read _Teodoro Antonio Paroni, lover and friend_ and listed his birth date and the same death date. Etched at the base of each was the phrase: Placed here by the Marotta family in honor of Camila, who belongs to us._

_I put a hand on each stone and lowered my head, tears dripping off my lashes. There had been no bodies to bury, but touching the stones forged a connection just the same. How I missed them both. They had been my only constants and worked tirelessly to help me overcome my deep seated fears, sparked by my mother's violent death. They'd told me for so long not to fear life and had lost theirs on a simple flight to Corinth. The near-death experience from my tumor that same week had done what years of therapy and unconditional love had not accomplished. It changed my fear. I began to worry more about _not _living as opposed to stumbling into the messiness of life. These two wonderful men would never see their hard work come to fruition — to see me become whole and able to live my life freely._

_"I wish you could see how well I am," I whispered to each of them. "I moved out of papá's house, I go shopping. I've made friends, been to dinner parties with Seppe. I'm … normal." I smiled and then broke down into soft sobs._

_After several seconds, Seppe's warm hand touched my shoulder. I turned to find him studying me with a pained look on his face. He hated to see me sad. I dropped my hands from the cold stone memorials and held them out to him. He promptly took them in his and drew me close into a tight hug. His warmth seeped into me, reminding me that life would only be what I made of it._

_"Seppe, thank you for putting these memorials here in your own cemetery, even though we aren't family."_

_"Camila, you _are _family. I would do anything for you. You lost everyone and it has been my pleasure to help you through the tragedy. I only wish I could do more." He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and we began walking back toward the house. "Those stones not only represent your family, but _our _family."_

__I nodded and looked ahead to the house and thought, 'Now my future begins. No more looking back.'_  
><em>

...

The house faded away and Seppe disappeared in a bright flash of white light that sent pain through my head. I panicked, reaching my hands out to him. I wasn't ready to be alone just yet. "Seppe!" I shouted. He'd been protecting me and now he was gone. "Don't leave!"

Someone rocked me gently and I realized I was encased in a pair of strong arms, seated on the lap of a man with a firm chest and very warm body. Definitely not Seppe. Though he was in good shape, he was not as firm or broad as this man.

"Stephanie, please wake up," he spoke in a pained voice, a voice I didn't recognize. I tried to open my eyes, but a blinding headache halted my effort and I quickly shut them again. Familiar concern gripped my heart. The headache, the blurry vision, and the nausea were the same symptoms I'd had with my tumor.

Panic seized me when I realized I didn't know where I was or who was with me. "Am I in hospital?" I groaned and began to feel sick.

The man must have noticed because he barked in a commanding tone, "Bathroom. Move," and rose from his seat, keeping me in his arms, and began to walk quickly across a carpeted floor that muffled his steps. "This isn't a hospital. You passed out." He had to be very strong to carry me without effort and still be able to talk in a normal voice, so I dubbed him 'Muscles' in my head.

A door opened and he lowered me to a cold floor on my knees. He gently massaged my back with a gentle hand while the other pressed a cool cloth to my forehead. The cold tiles and cloth against my clammy skin calmed my stomach convulsions and I nodded, thankful I hadn't thrown up. I opened my eyes, but everything was so blurry I could only make out his rough shape and no fine details.

"Why am I here?"

"You don't remember?"

I didn't remember and that alone made me skeptical about the situation. Seppe had always explained that he had powerful enemies, even within his own family, and I was to trust no one. That included strangers who showed me what appeared to be kindness. "Please, if you don't mind, I'd like to make a phone call and have a lie down." I closed my eyes against the nausea caused by my distorted vision.

"Babe?" He seemed to hesitate and then, with his face turned toward the wall behind me, quietly added, "Speech pattern is different. And her accent." Who was 'Babe?'

"Please," I asked again. "Call Giuseppe Marotta and have him collect me. He'll make appropriate arrangements." Muscles once again lifted me up against his rock solid chest and I floated through the air before being settled onto a bed with a set of cool, smooth sheets. "Comply with my request and I'm certain he will reward you kindly."

"I'm calling Young," Muscles said. I opened my eyes again as I pushed the top sheet away and tried to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but another bout of nausea hit me swiftly. I dropped back onto my elbow, propping myself up on my side as I shut my eyes tight and took slow, deep breaths.

A few moments later a phone conversation drifted to my ears and I became even more confused.

"…need you to come to Paris." Paris? Why was I in Paris? Had I been kidnapped? "No, we got Stephanie, but something happened to her." Stephanie — there was that name again. "I know that, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to." He paused. "Tank will be your contact, give him your details." And who was Tank?

"My name isn't Stephanie," I mumbled.

"Just rest."

How could he expect me to rest? I was in an unfamiliar place with a stranger who called me by someone else's name. I didn't want to risk opening my eyes to look around, to see if I was safe, because the nausea was a greater problem than lack of sight at the moment. There was also the matter of the killer headache pounding behind my eyelids and the possible return of the tumor. That thought alone made panic rise up in my throat. I'd finally found the urge to live and something threatened to take it away … again.

A minute later, I heard him say, "Santos, call Willis at Hilliard and have him send the doc over. I want him to examine her ASAP." He paused and said, "Tank, call Spitz. Get intel on Marotta and his connection to her." Two men replied in the affirmative. Knowing there were two other men with us made me jumpy and I scooted back from Muscles, who'd remained at my bedside during the conversation, using my elbow to inch my body along to the other side to gain some distance from the three of them.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me and then a big, soft hand touched my shoulder. In fear, I jerked away and sat up quickly, pressing my back to the headboard, momentarily frozen in place. "Easy, Sweetness. I have some water for you," he said. I didn't know which man it was, Santos or Tank, but there was no way I was going to drink anything I couldn't see.

What kind of man called a woman he didn't know Sweetness? How did I know if I should even trust him? I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself in a protective gesture, panic running rampant in my head. Seppe's warnings made the sudden presence of these men in my life suspicious, especially when I couldn't remember how I got here — in Paris, of all places. There was no way I could trust them, even if they treated me well.

"Easy," the man said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room. "We just want to help you."

His voice spurred me into action and I plunged myself forward toward the foot of the bed, intending to get to neutral ground between him and Muscles. I didn't like the thought of being trapped between them on a bed where I could be restrained. When my hand hit the edge, I attempted to swing my feet around in front of me, but someone, it felt like Muscles, gripped my upper arms and pulled me back towards him.

"Hang on, babe. You're not ready for that, yet."

My reaction could only be described as 'caged wild animal' because I launched myself off the bed what felt like three feet in the air. He didn't release me and I felt my knee connect with the side of his head. A sound I didn't recognize as my own voice ripped from my throat in some sort of strangled roar of fear and panic. My only thought was that I was not going to allow these men to take advantage of me without a fight.

"Tank," Muscles spoke across my body to the large man, whom I sensed had moved closer to us.

I swung my elbow around to connect with Muscles' chest and my other hand clawed out, scratching his cheek. In a strained voice, he bit out, "Close your mouth. Help me calm her down"

"No!" I yelled as I felt Tank close his hands around my ankles while Muscles laid me on the bed to hold my shoulders steady against the mattress. I didn't know exactly where the thought came from or why it came, but all I could think was, 'No! No more restraints!' I shouted, "Let go of me!"


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_WARNING: There is violence in this chapter. It is contained in the italicized section. If you do not want to read it, skip the italicized sections._

…

From Chapter 9:

_I swung my elbow around to connect with Muscles' chest and my other hand clawed out, scratching his cheek. In a strained voice, he bit out, "Close your mouth. Help me calm her down"_

_"No!" I yelled as I felt Tank close his hands around my ankles while Muscles laid me on the bed to hold my shoulders steady against the mattress. I didn't know exactly where the thought came from or why it came, but all I could think was, 'No! No more restraints!' I shouted, "Let go of me!"_

...

Chapter 10

The sound of my pulse hammered in my ears and drowned out their responses. My airway tightened and I felt my chest explode with pain. "…shock" was the only word I made out above the buzz in my ears.

Through the haze, I heard Muscles say, "Stephanie!" in a firm voice with an underlying anguish I couldn't analyze just now. I couldn't respond, though I wanted to, even if it was just to say he had the wrong girl. I was swept away by darkness and knew I needed air, but couldn't draw a breath to pull myself out. The burning in my chest intensified until I wanted to scream from it, and would have if possible. I lost my battle with oblivion, welcoming the respite from the pain.

…

_It was early June and the weather was perfect: balmy, with a cool breeze that wafted in through the open windows in the kitchen. I'd been baking biscotti all morning for Adriano and had just cleaned up the kitchen when Adriano called to warn me he was five minutes away, which meant I had to rush to get his espresso ready in time._

_A few minutes later, the machine whooshed and snorted under my expert hands. The deep, dark roasted aroma of espresso shot up into the air with the steam the machine gave off, nearly gagging me. Coffee had once been an enjoyment for me, almost a necessity to get myself going in the morning. Now I couldn't stand the sight or smell of the stuff. A car door slammed from out in the circular drive and I jumped, unprepared for the noise. Adriano was early, but whether or not he'd planned it that way, I couldn't be sure. _

_The machine finished just as I heard the front door, and I quickly poured the steaming beverage into the little espresso cup before setting it on the saucer. I hurried to the living room, careful not to spill his drink._

_Adriano stood in the middle of the room beside the couch with a frown on his tanned, angular face when I reached the large, airy room. "I thought I told you to have it ready." He was dressed in navy lycra jogging shorts and a matching shirt, running shoes, and sunglasses perched atop his head nestled into his perfectly styled dark hair._

_I presented him with a calm smile and handed over the cup. "I apologize, Adriano. I started immediately after your call, but it only just finished brewing."_

_After taking a sip, an ugly expression crossed his features, and he said, "What did you put in here, Camila? Mud? When I ask you to make espresso, I expect it to be the same each. and. every. time. Perfect." He flung the cup at me and hit me square in the chest. It took all of my willpower and a few Hail Mary's so I wouldn't flinch, especially when the scalding liquid passed straight through my cream silk blouse and scorched the pale skin underneath_

_I didn't dare reach out to catch the cup as it crashed to the floor for fear that he'd interpret it as a defensive action, something he would not tolerate at all. Without a word, I lifted the wet material from my skin and said in my most docile tone, "Please excuse me while I clean up." I ignored the painful burns and the fact that my skin was most likely blistered already, choosing instead to go to the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. I wanted to cry, but didn't dare._

"_Forget the cup. Be back in five minutes ready to run." His command didn't leave me any time to treat my scalded skin. I nodded and rushed to my room to change, ripping the shirt off my body in lieu of using the tiny pearl buttons. It was ruined anyway. Grabbing my clothes and hat, I went to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel from the cupboard to wipe away the remains of the coffee, hissing when the terry cloth touched my tender skin. Damn, this was going to be worse than the spaghetti incident from last week and my leg still hadn't fully healed._

_While I dressed and slipped on my shoes, I thought about Seppe and his promise to protect me. He'd done that very well, until he'd handed me over to the monster in the living room. Betrayal and despair swirled through my mind as I tried to comprehend how he hadn't known about Adriano's true nature. Or had he merely needed to get me settled so he could move on with his life and his business?_

_Now, I wondered what had made me believe life with Adriano could match the comfort Seppe had provided. I was safe and protected there, not … this. I wished over and over again that I had known what Adriano would become because I never would have agreed to marry him. Seppe would have been concerned, at first, because of his need to see me to live a 'normal' life, but he would have accepted my refusal. Adriano was fond of reminding me over and over that I knew what he was like and chose to be with him. The truth was that I'd overheard Seppe threaten one of his cousins that he'd be disowned if he divorced his wife. That it was a sin and he wouldn't tolerate it. So, I was stuck, unless I wanted to leave everything, and everyone, behind._

_A glance at the clock told me I only had one minute, so I dropped the towel and tucked my hair behind my ears before pulling on my cap. I would have preferred a ponytail, but my hair had only grown out to four and a half inches. The doctor had told me to be patient with my hair growth since it only grows about a half inch per month, but it was hard to wait sometimes. I hated my hair short._

_With a small sigh for what I couldn't change or rush, I grabbed my sunglasses and jogged out to the living room. Adriano waited with his arms crossed and looked pointedly at his watch. "You were very close."_

_I nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't expect a response and didn't want one. Adriano always had the last word._

_We jogged out of the house and ran at a slow pace up the road for five minutes, stopped to stretch, then took off for our twenty minute run. I'd only recently been cleared by my doctor to resume all physical activity, but now I was two months behind on my routine. Still, I was able to match my stride to his for the entire duration, never falling behind. When we returned to the house, we stretched again and then Adriano said, "Time to shower."_

_He took my hand and led me to the bathroom where he proceeded to strip off my sweaty clothing. He shoved me into the shower and turned on the cold spray while he watched me wash my hair and condition it. He said it was because a cold water rinse was good for my hair, but I knew it served as another form of punishment he could dish out. At times, I almost forgot that I hadn't done anything to deserve punishment from him, but when he left, I made a practice of reminding myself. I had to stay strong. I'd fought for my strength and wouldn't give it up easily now._

_When my personal time was up, he added the hot and then stepped into the shower with me where I washed him from head to foot. He washed his hair and then looked at me expectantly, so I leaned up to kiss him just the way he liked. _

_He took his shower gel and washed my body, hands lingering on my skin. I remained still, allowing him access to explore and thought about a time not too long ago when I'd welcomed his touch. No longer._

_With a hand on my throat, he turned off the water and dragged me out of the shower. I grabbed a towel and dried him off. He groaned low in his throat, "I think I'll have you today, Camila."_

"_Yes, Adriano." I quickly dried myself off with his towel. I wasn't allowed to have my own anymore. He said sharing was economical. I didn't argue with his logic, or more appropriately, he didn't tolerate me questioning him. Ever. _

_After I rubbed the excess water out of my hair, he nodded and I walked to the bedroom to stand by the bed. He sauntered in a few seconds later and stood in front of me. "Lie down."_

_I __did __and __accepted __his __every __invasion __with __responses __he__'__d __demanded __from __me __at __the __very __start __of __our __relationship. __Suddenly, __Adriano __surprised __me __by __grabbing __my __hair __and __tilting __my __head __back __at __a __painful __angle.__ "__I__'__m __not _him _am __I, __Camila?__" H__is __voice __was __cold __and __full __of __hatred __and __I __froze. __Pure __fear __kept __me __silent. __I __kept __my __expression __neutral, __but __just __barely._

_He grasped my jaw with his other hand and squeezed hard enough to make my eyes water. I bit my lip to keep from crying out in pain. "I never should have married a slut like you."_

_Standing, he pulled me off the bed and hooked an arm around my throat, cutting off my airway. I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd really kill me as he'd promised so many times in the past two weeks. With a roar, he shoved me forward across the room, arm still around my throat, toward the full-length mirror by the wardrobe. Adriano had now gone beyond my scope of reference for him. This new territory produced a level of terror I'd never felt up to this point._

"_You won't see him again. You're mine." We stood in front of the mirror. I struggled to keep my composure as my lungs screamed for air and he watched me, waiting for something. The motion came without warning and I was smashed, face forward, into the mirror, which splintered in its entirety. It didn't fall apart, but I could see that just about any disturbance would shake its tremulous foundation. I shook violently as my basal emotions overtook me, only his unrelenting body pressed against mine held me upright._

_Keeping the front of my body in contact with the glass, he spread my legs and said, "Never again, Camila."_

…

A warm hand shaking my shoulder jolted me awake. Despite my intentions to remain calm, I howled, "Noooo!" The memory of Adriano's latest punishment pushed me one step closer to insanity and I completely disregarded his rules and my own resolve. "Leave me alone." It was a weak plea, but I hoped he'd get the message that I was done playing by his rules.

He was sitting next to me on the bed, with my body sloping gently toward where the mattress depressed under his weight. When I expected a harsh touch, he surprised me by tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and the affectionate gesture made me nauseous. The suspicion of a new mind game put my senses on high alert. My stomach convulsed from the suppression of fear and panic and I leaned over the side of the bed and retched on the floor. "Oh God. Please, let me go or kill me," I moaned. Death couldn't be worse than the hell I lived. I rested my head against the edge of the bed in case I got sick again.

The hand moved from my shoulder to the middle of my back in a light touch, massaging in what would have been soothing circles if only he'd treated me differently. I thought I should sit up and get the pressure off the glass embedded in my skin, but feared that Adriano would begin his new lesson for me if he thought I was up to it. Why didn't he speak? He always had a lecture for me. My outburst should have drawn a reaction from him.

"The doc had better get here soon, she's worse this time," said a male voice from across the room. Who the hell had Adriano brought with him this morning?

I opened my eyes, but saw only blinding light and severely distorted images. It seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint why. The face in front of me was out of focus I couldn't even make out the features: eyes, lips, nose. The slightly darker skin tone told me the man beside me was _not _Adriano. I attempted to clear my vision by blinking rapidly, but my efforts only produced the ability to see vague outlines.

"Babe?" he asked.

Not expecting a stranger, I jerked my body away from him, shrugging his hand away from me. My mind raced to place the voice, but I couldn't focus on it over the inner self-preservation, shouting 'Get away from me!'

"Shh, it's okay. I'm getting up." His voice was calm and low, so I stopped and waited, clutching the sheet in my hands. I watched his weaving outline as his body rose from the bed at a snail's pace, facing me. He raised his hands up at shoulder level and backed away a couple of steps.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"A friend," he replied.

I didn't believe him for a second and narrowed my eyes in his direction. "What do you want? Why are you here?" My tone was quiet, but demanding.

No answer. I glanced toward where the other voice had come from and felt a jolt of dread lance through my gut when I counted not one, but two other masculine bodies in the room, one incredibly large and the other lanky, but exuding power nonetheless. The one who'd spoken, the larger one, stood on the other side of the bed, the other beside the wall across the room from the bed.

It took a split second for me to decide to get my ass off the bed since it made me nervous being there under the threat of three possibly hostile men. Keeping my skewed vision locked on the man who still had his hands raised, I crawled to the foot of the bed and stood, taking several steps away from it. I flicked my gaze from man to man, closing my sweaty hands into tight fists.

To my immediate left, the lanky man took a small step toward me. I jumped back away from him and smacked into the wall, realizing with a sense of helplessness that I'd just trapped myself in the corner. Checkmate, their move.

"Do _not_ approach her," the man with the raised hands commanded. Apparently he was in charge. I turned toward him and suddenly remembered hearing these voices before.

"Muscles," I murmured. Had I been dreaming about Seppe before? I wasn't sure why I was here and didn't have a plan of action, but knew I'd fight like hell if they were Adriano's goons and he'd sicced them on me.

I cast my gaze toward the largest man, studying his unfocused image. He was still in the spot near the other side of the bed from Muscles. I remembered his name. Tank.

"Stephanie," Muscles said, taking a small step forward. I cringed into the wall and he stopped moving, keeping his hands up where I could see them. "It's Ranger. You know us, you trust us. We only want to help you."

I swallowed. Ranger. Did I know him? Was he one of Adriano's associates? No, there was no one named Ranger with Adriano, but I knew I'd heard it before. Who was he and why couldn't I remember? If I couldn't remember him as a friend, logic dictated that he was lying.

I decided to play the only cards I had. "Hah! Where I come from, trust is a rare commodity with a price tag that's too high for me to pay. Let's cut to the chase. I want to speak with Adriano." Anger radiated through my entire body. The rotten bastard had passed me off to his friends, I was sure of it. I knew he'd been angry with me, but this was going too far. Just the thought of all he'd done to me made the blood pound in my skull, aggravating my headache.

"Who is Adriano?"

"Don't act like you don't know him! I know what he's doing. What exactly did he tell you to do to me?" I received no answer. "Tell him his obedient little woman doesn't exist anymore. No, in fact, I'll tell him myself. Call him here. Now!" Rising anger made me scream hard enough to hurt my throat. Damn, I realized I looked like a crazy woman and maybe that's what I'd become. "I could rip his puny dick off and shove it down his throat!" I growled.

"My God, what happened to her?" the man to my left asked.

His statement made me question, for the first time, whether or not they _did _know Adriano. They sounded genuinely concerned and that wasn't something I was used to from anyone in Adriano's world. I narrowed my eyes at 'Ranger' and asked, "If you're not with Adriano, what do you want from me? Is this Seppe's doing?" I crossed my arms over my chest before I remembered the glass. Carefully, I patted my hands down my front, and noticed the clothes for the first time. There was absolutely no glass on me, nor any cuts that I could tell. Something wasn't right. Had I dreamed about Adriano, as well?

While I'd been preoccupied with my thoughts, Ranger had gotten close enough to reach out and touch my arm. I reacted instinctively and grabbed his pinky finger, bending it backward toward the wrist. Then I twisted his arm up behind his back, shoving the hand up as high as I could toward his head between the shoulder blades. He gave a satisfying groan of pain and sunk to his knees. I hooked my arm around his neck and tightened my elbow over his Adam's apple, increasing the pressure on his little finger. "Everyone stay back!"


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

FromChapter10:

_While I'd been preoccupied with my thoughts, Ranger had gotten close enough to reach out and touch my arm. I reacted instinctively and grabbed his pinky finger, bending it backward toward the wrist. Then I twisted his arm up behind his back, shoving the hand up as high as I could toward his head between the shoulder blades. He gave a satisfying groan of pain and sunk to his knees. I hooked my arm around his neck and tightened my elbow over his Adam's apple, increasing the pressure on his little finger. "Everyone stay back!"_

…

Chapter 11

"Shit!" shouted Tank.

"What the fuck, Stephanie?" Tank asked. "Ranger?"

"Stand down," Ranger said in a quiet voice.

"Damn, I taught her that move," the lanky man — he had to be Santos — mumbled. "Damn. I'd have paid money to see this any other day."

He taught me this? I thought back and didn't recall any of Seppe's men teaching me how to defend myself. On top of that, my lessons mainly covered how to hide so I wouldn't have to defend myself.

"Sweetness, let go of Ranger," Tank said in a calm voice. "He won't hurt you."

"He won't?" I asked in confusion. Why was it so hard to think right now? I'd been upset. Was it because of these men or something else? I wanted to put my head in my hands and rub my temples, but I didn't dare release my hold on the man kneeling in front of me.

"No, Blue Eyes. We're all here to help you." This came from Santos. "And damn, but you're hurting him." He sounded almost … amused about it.

"None of us will hurt you, Steph," Tank said. "We're here to help you get home."

Here. Right. Now I remembered. Paris. Still, if I was here and they were here with me, didn't they have something to do with it? Something in the back of my mind was trying to remind me of an important fact, but I couldn't hone in on what it was. The thought was just far enough out of my conscious reach that I was starting to get agitated. Until proven otherwise, the men in the room with me were not trustworthy. "I don't believe you," I growled and gave a hard shove to Ranger's arm.

He spoke up in a strained voice. "Stop pissing her off."

I sneered at the other two men. "I don't trust _anyone_ right now. You're not taking me anywhere. I won't go back." A tear slid out the corner of my eye, but I didn't dare remove a hand to wipe it away. "Never again."

I felt Ranger shift and tightened my hold. "Don't move." I didn't have to raise my voice to let him know I was serious. Truthfully, I didn't really think I could hold him if he chose to fight me, but I also knew I could be scrappy if circumstances required it.

"This is PTSD," Santos said.

"I agree with you, man," Tank said, sounding slightly closer to me this time.

"God, what did they do to you, babe?" asked Ranger. He sounded pained, but controlled.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here. And why are you calling me 'Babe'? My name is Camila." Claustrophobia set in as the two men took a careful step closer.

"Your name is Stephanie Plum. You're from Trenton, New Jersey. You're a very good friend of ours and I'm asking you to come back to us. Please," Tank said, hands up, voice soft.

I closed my eyes and tried to chase away the pain in my head and slow down my racing heart, focusing on drawing in each breath slowly. After several deep, calming breaths, I opened them and blinked in surprise. Now that I'd taken the edge off my panic, my vision returned to normal and I could now clearly see the two men standing in front of me. Their expressions were cautious and their hands were in positions where I could see that they were empty.

I looked the men over and knew I'd seen them before, that I personally knew them. I glanced down at Ranger and stared at his face. There was a wild sort of fear there, along with anger, and something else I couldn't place. "Don't make me regret this," I warned.

He caught my meaning and nodded. I let go and stepped back to keep them all in view. Just because I thought I knew them didn't make them safe. He rose slowly from the floor and held his arms at his sides, shoulders stiff. Now that all three men were on their feet, I contemplated the serious dilemma I faced being alone with them. They were a lot bigger than me and it would take almost no effort on their part to subdue me. Then the familiarity of this scene struck me and my apprehension abated somewhat. This was good familiar. My eyes flicked from face to face.

I approached the Tank, standing furthest to the right, and made a 'come here' motion with my finger and he leaned down to my eye level. I stared at him as recognition flickered in my mind. Dark chocolate skin, dark eyes, and powerful physique — all buried inside my head as a distant memory. My eyes held his for several seconds, and then I reached up put my hand on his shoulder and comprehension blossomed fully. He didn't move a muscle, not even a twitch, and waited patiently for me to finish my inspection. "Pierre," I whispered.

His eyes closed briefly and then opened. "Yes." Okay, good. But who was he?

I took a deep breath and squeezed his muscled shoulder, then let go and moved to Santos. He was a couple of inches shorter than Tank, trim built, and muscular with a lightly tanned complexion and greenish hazel eyes with rakish good looks and a small scar on the side of his chin. I stared at him for a second and said, "I remember laughter in your eyes."

He broke into a grin and replied, "I never could resist a smile with you around."

I took a step back, shocked. I knew him, trusted him. "We're friends," I told him.

"We _did_ tell you that," he said quietly.

I relaxed further and said, almost out of habit, "Playboy."

He grinned. "You always could see right through me, Blue Eyes." I took another step back. I knew this game, but I couldn't remember the rules because confusion had jumbled all of my thoughts and memories into individual splinters of information that wouldn't connect together.

I turned around to face Ranger. He stood stock still, watching my every move. His was the most handsome face of the three. A strong jaw, muscular facial structure, soft, sensuous lips, and blazing dark eyes so full of intense scrutiny that my pulse quickened. I studied him, unable to tear my eyes from his. They could have been made of stone for all the life they showed. Flat, black, calculating. But something else lingered past the hard façade. Pain. I knew it was because of me.

"No," I slowly shook my head at him.

He blinked and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"This," I wiggled my finger back and forth from one eye to the other, "is not acceptable. You're hiding."

He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them. The pain was so much more than I could have guessed. It blazed from him, coming straight from his soul. It hit me with such force that I gasped and took a small step backward. I wanted to comfort and soothe him — to drive away his pain and see peace return. Return?

And then I knew. He was more than just a good looking man that I knew but didn't remember. That much was clear. I took two steps until I my body nearly touched his. "You're different, special somehow," I whispered to him. "You're mine." I didn't know exactly how I knew, but it was right.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and tensed. His emotions were uncensored: hurt, then fear, and finally, love — unrestrained and potent. It humbled me that he loved me so much even though I'd hurt him. From a hidden place deep inside, I knew I loved him, too. There was no explanation, but it made all the sense in the world to me.

I swallowed and licked my lips, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do from here. How could I tell a man I'd just attacked that I loved him, especially when I couldn't be sure why or when I fell for him?

He took the decision from my hands and grabbed my upper arms, pulling me to him and claiming my mouth in a passionate kiss. My mind shut down in that second and I tensed, ready to fight him, and then the familiarity broke through my initial response. I sagged into him and gave myself up to the power of the feelings radiating from him. Reaching up, I clutched his sides as he changed the kiss from desperate passion to tender caresses that left no room for doubt. Yes, he was mine, but I was irrevocably his. It struck me at once that there was safety in his arms in a way I'd never experienced with Adriano. Protection, love, devotion. Everything I'd been missing.

It all came flooding back to me in that second. Paris. Ranger. Tank. Lester. My eyes snapped open and I pulled back in horror. "Oh my God."

"Stephanie?"

"Ranger."

"Yes." He looked hopeful, but still a little wary.

I turned around and looked at the guys. "Lester."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heels, pleased, but cautious.

I looked over at Tank and felt a pang of guilt at the way he was eyeing me. "I'm okay now, Tank."

I turned to face Ranger and wished I could avoid the confusion in his eyes. "What happened? Who is Adriano?" he asked in a cracked voice, now the only sign of his inner turmoil.

I took a deep breath. This was going to be weird. Very weird. "I don't exactly know how to explain it, but — in my dream — he was my husband," I said.

Shock was his first reaction, but he schooled it and studied my face carefully. His eyes turned black as those of a shark, hot on the scent of blood. "He hurt you."

"It was a dream."

"He hurt you."

I sighed. "Yes."

Curses burst out from behind me and Ranger pulled me into a fierce hug so quickly I didn't see him move. "He will regret each. and. every. time he touched you." His voice was so low I almost didn't hear him.

"It was just a dream, he wasn't real," I said. I squeezed him tighter and put my head on his shoulder. The events of my own horror film replayed in my head and I couldn't keep the memory of the pain out of my thoughts. Clear as day, I recalled Adriano using her — this Camila person — over and over again. Hitting her … humiliating her. The dream had felt so real that I could almost feel the man's hands on _me_.

"Stephanie," Ranger said, caressing his hands up and down my back, "your reactions were too strong. You didn't know who you were. Something's going on."

I whispered, "I know." Suddenly, my skin crawled and I wanted, needed, a hot shower. Pulling back, I wiped my hands on my jeans to keep them from trembling. "Anyone have anything for a headache?"

Lester walked over to a black duffel and unzipped a side pocket, pulled out a bottle of Advil, and handed it to me. "Knew there was a reason I bought this."

I gave him a weak smile and turned back to Ranger. "Shower, I need—," I broke off and pointed to the bathroom. He took a step toward it and I shook my head, offering a look of apology. I wanted to do this alone. He nodded his understanding and I crossed to the white door, pushed through, and slammed it shut behind me.

I stripped on my way over to the shower and turned on the water. While I waited for it to warm up, I went to the sink and splashed cold water on my face and then filled a glass. When I tried to pop open the pill bottle, the cap flew off and pinged against the sink. It landed somewhere behind the toilet and I left it there. I'd get it later.

Rolling my eyes, I began to work at the seal over the mouth of the bottle. With a heave and a grunt, my finger finally pressed through the thick plastic. Unfortunately, my wet hands lost their grip on the bottle and it clattered into the sink. The pills spilled out in a rush and I grasped wildly for them as they rolled around the smooth porcelain and then down the open drain. It figured that there was no stopper. Couldn't I just get one break?

A sound of disgust resonated in the small room and I flung the bottle down on the floor in a fit of temper. I went back to the shower and stepped under the hot water, conceding defeat to the pills and my headache. Eyes closed, I greedily allowed the steamy water to wash over me. I tried to focus on Ranger's face and my memories of him.

I opened my eyes to grab the soap and squirted some onto the loofah on a stick. I worked it in a circular motion, spreading suds over my body. Willing myself to forget about the dream and all the missing months, I tried to pretend I was still in Trenton and never left.

It was a no go. My denial was broken and I had to face the truth. With shaking hands, I inspected the skin on my front from shoulders to thighs. I had no scars from the glass, nothing to prove I'd been cut. Yet, I knew deep inside that something wasn't right about the way I'd dreamed. Waking up and thinking I was that woman wasn't normal. Snapping out of it wasn't normal. Forgetting Ranger? I would have said impossible. The weird flashes and sharp jabs of pain in my head were really strange.

Remembering Camila's thoughts, I wondered about the tumor. Had there been a surgery? Cancer? I reached up to feel my hair. Something had happened, that was for sure. But no. There was no way the dreams were real because I never had been, and never would be, the kind of woman who let a man control her life.

Disgusted with my thoughts, I scrubbed harder and harder, over my body and my back, down my legs and arms. Again and again, I worked on my skin until the hot water started to sting. I looked at myself and realized I'd scrubbed my skin completely raw. That was going to hurt when it dried. I groaned at my own stupidity and my head began to pound again. God, I needed something for this damn headache.

Loud, angry voices snagged my attention. Alert for any danger, I leaned out of the shower to listen. I barely made out Ranger saying "It's none of your business" and Lester's reply of "Fuck you" when my feet slipped on the soapy shower floor. I pitched forward, throwing my hands out in front of me to break my fall. My head hit something hard, knocking me loopy. I briefly thought that it must have been the heated towel rack before I lost consciousness.

…

I woke to the sound of two men talking and the conversation sounded personal enough that I wondered if I should let them know I was awake. After a second, I decided not to because I was so comfortable I didn't want to open my eyes just yet.

"You should get some rest."

Oh wow. The deep, masculine voice was sultry and sexy. It reminded me of Johnnie Walker whisky: smooth and potent. If Walker looked half as sexy as he sounded, there wasn't a woman alive who could resist him. I'd bet money on it.

A strong hand gripped mine and gently squeezed. I knew it was Ranger because of the electric heat that radiated off him and seeped into my body. "I can't," he said.

"Can't or won't?"

A sigh. "I can't leave her." He was silent for a bit and Walker didn't speak. His next words confused me, at first. "Can you help her?"

"I think her chances are good." The man clapped a hand onto Ranger's shoulder and I felt the tug of his hand against mine with the motion. "She certainly needs my help, but this isn't going to be a quick fix. You're going to have to trust me to do what's best." I was getting more confused by the minute.

"You didn't see what she was like," Ranger said in a quiet voice. "Will it make her relive everything?"

"Most likely, at first. Don't give me that look, you know how this works." I imagined Ranger had just glared at the man, but instead of intimidating him, he'd gotten a lecture. Interesting. "Decisions about this situation are my call, understood?" Walker was stern and his no nonsense tone only served to make him sound more attractive, if possible.

Ranger sat down in a chair near my bedside and caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. "This mean you're in?"

"I'm in," Walker replied.

"Seeing her like that, wild and trembling with fear—" Ranger broke off for a beat. "Do whatever you can to protect her from that." He sounded deadly and more than just a little wild himself. "I want this bastard. As soon as possible." It became clear to me that Ranger and Walker had taken my dreams literally. It was crazy. I'd always had vivid dreams. These were nothing new — just more violent and specific.

"Clinically, what happened today wasn't a bad thing," Walker said.

"So you say."

"So I'm right." They were both silent for a moment, then Walker said in a quiet voice, "She broke out of it and you have a place to start looking for the answers."

"I'd never willingly put her through that just for answers," Ranger's tone was acidic.

"I didn't say you would. It happened, and it gave us a lot to go on — both with the case and with her."

Ranger said nothing, but that didn't surprise me. The man's eyes could speak a thousand words if you knew how to read them. "There are no last names for Camila or Adriano," he finally said.

"We'll get them. Marotta is a good lead."

"I know."

"How are you holding up with all of this?" Walker paced away from the bed and Ranger continued stroking the back of my hand.

Ranger was silent for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. "Torn. Afraid." Whoa. Who was this guy? Ranger admitting to _me _he was afraid was monumental. Now he was telling another guy? Unbelievable.

"Both normal."

Ranger didn't respond. I still reeled that he was opening up and talking about his innermost feelings — practically a carnal sin in the book of Ranger religion. My respect for Walker went up several notches. This was someone Ranger trusted beyond the normal scope of friendship. Again, who was this guy?

Walker changed topics again and I guessed that Ranger had given him the 'off limits' look. Because of my curious nature, I'd seen it often enough to know its power. "I was surprised when Hicks told me you that some woman got to you."

"She didn't get _to_ me. She got _me_, all of me." Ranger sighed. My heart kicked up into a staccato rhythm. Ranger was telling another man that he belonged to me? "I never wanted the complications of having a woman. Never thought I'd consider it until she came along." His voice was dark when he said, "Never would have done it again."

"What are your thoughts about it all?" Walker asked.

'Confused." He was confused about me? "In some ways, it's like the past year never happened," Ranger said after another moment of silence. "She died, but somehow _we_ didn't and I couldn't let go. Her phone call the other day — I didn't want to hope."

"But you took a chance."

Ranger snorted. "I didn't have a choice. Woman like Stephanie Plum comes back from the dead, you take a chance that it's real."

In a soft tone that made me want to curl up and lick my paws like a kitten, Walker murmured, "Yes, you do." Then he firmed up his tone and said, "Since I'm here, I can be available for you, too, if you need me."

"No. She's the focus right now. I need to finish this, give her a life to go back to," Ranger said quietly.

"Regardless, if you need to talk…"

"Someday," Ranger said. Ironic. I now knew that, to Ranger, 'someday' wasn't just a flippant response, but a guarantee for the future. "First, we find the fuckers responsible and eliminate the threat." I was on board with that idea.

Since there was no reason to continue my pretense of sleep, I stretched, started a fake yawn, which turned into a real yawn, and then winced in pain.

Ranger shot up from his chair and leaned over me. He brought his hand up to my cheek cautiously, watching my eyes. I didn't know what he was waiting for, but he must have seen it because he cupped my cheek and stroked his thumb over my skin. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore. A lot stupid. What happened?" I asked, looking at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Walker standing against the wall near the door. I was curious about what he looked like, but didn't want to remove my attention from Ranger just yet.

"What do you remember?"

I thought back to the bathroom scenario. I'd spilled all the pills down the sink, gotten in the shower, and rubbed my skin raw. That explained the stinging sensation. Then what had happened? I furrowed my brow trying to remember and felt his fingertip caress gently down between my brows, relaxing the tension there.

I shook my head. "I remember being in the shower and scrubbing myself. God, I must've looked like a crazy woman when you found me."

"I admit it wasn't my best moment."

I shook my head and raised my hands, sliding my fingers into my matted hair. "Crazy dreams. Not recognizing the guys or you. Today has been unbelievable."

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"You've been out for almost twenty-two hours, it's after nine now."

I looked to my left and saw that, sure enough, it was morning. I would have expected it to be afternoon or evening after sleeping off a head injury in the hospital. "I hit my head that hard?"

Walker took the opportunity to clear his throat and stepped forward. Holy Adonis, the man looked even better than his voice sounded, if that was at all possible. "They couldn't wake you, but your vital signs were normal. I suspect your sleep had more to do with your mind trying to settle itself than anything medical." At my surprised look, he said, "Ranger filled me in on what happened before the bathroom incident."

I took in his appearance now that I had a perfect excuse to openly study him. He was a few inches taller than Ranger and had jet black hair with some faint traces of silver at the temples. I couldn't pinpoint his age, but guessed that he had to be at least in his forties, though I couldn't see any distinctive lines, even around his eyes. It was possible he was even younger and just prematurely turning grey.

His clear blue eyes were so striking that I felt them pierce clear through me. He had the same kind of incredible good looks Ranger had been blessed with, only different. They obviously weren't related, just in the same league. It wasn't only his face, either. He was an absolutely perfect male specimen. The gray in his hair didn't detract from his appearance, but seemed to enhance it. Where did Ranger find these men? Hire-a-Hunk Catalogue? I was right. That voice mixed with those looks — completely dangerous, and lusciously so.

Ranger noticed my assessment of Walker and said, "Stephanie Plum, Blake Young. Friend of mine."

I thought Walker had an attractive name to complement his chiseled physique and hypnotic blue eyes. "Hi."

"Hello Stephanie. It's good to meet you," he said, extending his hand.

"Thanks." I shook it and looked at Ranger unsure of what to say.

"He's here to help you with the dreams and the recovery process," Ranger said by way of explanation.

And then it all clicked. "Walker's a shrink?" A shrink. I mentally took back my earlier thoughts. Sexy voice and good looks or not, I could resist him just fine now. I barely stopped myself from wrinkling my nose.

Walker looked confused and Ranger's lips twitched. "Walker, babe?"

I felt a blush stain my cheeks, but decided to go with the truth anyway. "Um … I've been calling him Walker in my head." Two pairs of eyes blinked, waiting for further explanation. I told them what happened, essentially admitting I'd been eavesdropping, and said, "It stuck. Though, there's nothing wrong with Blake."

Both men glanced at each other and then Walker looked back to me, his head tilted in consideration. Finally, he said, "Okay. I'm good with Walker. Johnnie Walker Blue is one of my favorites, so I take it as a compliment."

I smiled. "Good. One less thing to remember." Clearing my throat, I asked, "Uh, you think I slept so long because my mind was doing what now?"

"You've been through a lot of trauma, emotionally, physically, and mentally, Stephanie. Sometimes the mind just shuts down, like a reboot."

"So, you're saying I rebooted. Okay." I wasn't sure what to think of this guy or his theories, but if he could help the nasty dreams go away, he was my new best friend.

Ranger sat on the edge of my bed and traced his fingers over my knee. I looked at him, but he was looking at Walker and the two were having a wordless conversation. Which meant only one thing: Ranger wanted to talk. To me.

Walker looked from Ranger to me and then walked toward the door. "I'll get the doctor and let him know you're awake." He left before either of us could respond and I turned back to Ranger. He was staring at me with all expression wiped from his face. Uh oh. Definitely time to talk.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

FromChapter11:

_Ranger sat on the edge of my bed and traced his fingers over my knee. I looked at him, but he was looking at Walker and the two were having a wordless conversation. Which meant only one thing: Ranger wanted to talk. To me._

_Walker looked from Ranger to me and then walked toward the door. "I'll get the doctor and let him know you're awake." He left before either of us could respond and I turned back to Ranger. He was staring at me with all expression wiped from his face. Uh oh. Definitely time to talk._

…

Chapter 12

Ranger stood and walked over to the window, lifting the curtain back with his index finger to look outside. The sunlight slashed across his face in a bright line and I squinted, watching him. He stayed there for a few minutes — my guess was to settle himself — and then he dropped his hand and strode across the room to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Do you remember what happened?" He picked up my hand and held it tight in his.

I sighed. "Yeah, I heard yelling, stuck my head out of the shower, slipped, and hit my head on the towel rack. Blacked out."

"What about before that?"

"You mean the crazy dreams?" He nodded at my answer. "Yeah, I remember those."

Ranger grew silent, his thumb lightly stroking over the back of my hand. He was staring at the closed curtains and spoke before he turned to look at me. "You asked me to kill you."

"What?"

"After the second dream. You woke, asked to be released or killed." He dropped my hand and made a move to stand, but mine shot out and grabbed his forearm.

"I don't remember it. I do remember the dream and, to be honest, it's not a surprise I said that."

"Damn," he said in a near-whisper. "I waited too long to check on you. When I did, seeing you on the floor, naked, unconscious, bottle of pills by your head… I thought—"

"Shit, Ranger! I wouldn't take a whole bottle of pills. I didn't take even _one_!"

"I know. They pumped your stomach as soon as you arrived."

"But…"

He leaned over me and lifted a hand to the side of my neck, stroking his thumb along my jaw. The familiar scent of Bvlgari wafted over me and my senses froze. Ranger. My ultimate distraction, above cake, chocolate, and Ben & Jerry's. There was something heady about how his body's chemistry reacted with the subtle fragrance of the stuff. When had he switched back?

"Wait. When did you get the Bvlgari?" I tilted my nose up toward him and sniffed again. God, it was addicting. Only a hint of it gave me a high like nothing else, full exposure nearly made me comatose from pleasure. Maybe having a shrink around wasn't a bad idea. "You didn't have it yesterday."

"Young said smells can help trigger memories. You'd noticed it was missing before."

"So you got some in case I forgot you again." He nodded. Fair enough, though it hurt to think it could happen again. Hurt that he was worried enough to change soaps — not that I minded the change.

"Focus, babe. You said you wanted to die." He tipped his head slightly, pointed look on his face. I begrudgingly dragged myself away from my euphoria and nodded. He sat up slightly and dropped his hand to the bed near my shoulder, eyebrows lowering. "I never should have let you go in there alone after everything that happened, but didn't want to cause a relapse."

"It was an accident!"

"Stephanie."

I looked up into his intense stare.

"You will not be alone until we know how dangerous this other … persona is to you."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I'm not going to hurt myself."

"Please. Until we know."

I clenched my teeth and then blew out a long, slow breath. "Fine, but I'm not peeing in front of _anyone_, not even you."

He flashed a small grin at me, but then turned serious and said, "One more question."

"What?"

"What happened to the pills?"

I relayed the story about opening the pill bottle and dropping it. "I got pissed, so I threw the damn thing across the room. That's how it ended up on the floor. Can you just trust that I won't deliberately hurt myself?"

"What about your skin?"

I winced. I'd forgotten the burning pain of my raw skin until then. Damn him. "That was a bad reaction to remembering the dream. Okay, so it was a little over the top."

He kissed my forehead. "Which is why I want someone with you at all times."

"I reserve the right to demand compromise on that."

"Deal." He kissed me, a slow and sensual kiss, and I melted into the bed. The man had very talented lips. "Thank you."

I was overcome. He needed peace of mind and the only way he could get it was for me to agree to his request. It struck me what a heavy responsibility it is to have so much influence over someone else's happiness.

Raising my hand to his cheek, I fingered the red, angry scratches gently, sliding the pads over the rough surface. "I'm sorry I hurt you … and I'm embarrassed about the arm thing, too." I looked away from him toward the window.

"It was a good hold," he said. "Very good."

I turned back to stare at him for a second. "To be honest, I can't believe I was able to overpower you." He tilted his head slightly to the side and fixed me with a small smile. I punched his arm. "I wasn't really able to hold you, was I?"

"You needed to feel in control. It was a great hold for the average person, perfectly executed," he said, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. He tipped his head down and kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm not average." No, he wasn't and never would be. He fixed me with a serious expression and said in a low tone, "Yesterday raised a lot of questions. Young wants to talk to you about it."

I searched his eyes, trying to make out his frame of mind. He was uneasy asking me to talk to Walker, but he believed it was the best option. "Who is he?"

Ranger sat back, licked his lips and curled them into his mouth before releasing them. "He's a military psychiatrist I've worked with in the past. Works mostly unique cases. More importantly, he has experience with people who've lost chunks of time from their lives."

"People like me," I said, admitting to myself that maybe Walker could be a big help.

In a smooth motion, he slipped off the bed and bent down to give me a quick kiss before standing upright again. "Yes, people like you."

"If you trust him, I trust him," I said, holding his gaze to prove I meant it.

The look on his face changed and I couldn't exactly pinpoint the meaning behind his expression. "I'll get him."

…

A half hour later, the doctor had come and gone and Ranger left to talk to Tank and Lester. Walker had taken the chair beside the bed and I wondered why I had agreed to talk to him because he was seriously pissing me off. "No," I said. "I don't have any conscious memories of what happened over the past year. There's no way these dreams were real, I would have remembered."

"They're a little random if they're not real, don't you think?" He leaned back in his seat and studied me. "Not to mention the fact that you thought you were her when you woke up both times. In both dreams, there were two different men who knew this Camila. One of them is someone we know enough about to fill a whole file drawer. A very dangerous man you seemed to trust."

"Gee, that makes two very dangerous men I trust, then." I tipped my head toward the door Ranger had exited, but he ignored my gesture. Ugh! I hated psychiatrists. They wanted you to do all the work and then charged you for it. It brought up a good discussion point for when I had Ranger alone. I wondered how much he was paying Walker to help me. "Look, maybe I just watched too many movies this past year and I dreamed about them."

"Or it's a clue to what happened during that year. A year, I might add, where everyone who knew you as Stephanie thought you were dead."

When the man had a point, he had a point. "Do we have to do this now?" I groaned, rubbing my temples.

"No, but keep this in mind. Everything you saw in your dreams is a potential detail we need to figure out what happened to you. Right now, we have no solid leads other than Seppe, who we believe is _the_ Giuseppe Marotta, the head of the Marotta family and one of the highest ranking members of the mafia in Italy."

I dropped my forehead into my hand. Leave it up to me to make nice with a _family_ member, even if I was out of my mind at the time.

He continued his talk without pause. "Whoever took you hid you so well none of Ranger's International contacts could find you. I don't have to give you a rundown of how many there are, do I?" His crystal blue gaze bored into me and I realized this guy wouldn't let me get away with anything.

I sighed. "No. You don't." Before he rejoined the military, Ranger was an International private investigator slash mercenary who swooped in and did the dirty jobs our Government didn't want to touch. The security business served as an effective cover for him to have a reason to travel into some hard to penetrate areas. It also provided a way for him to have access to a lot of top secret information without anyone knowing about it. He'd never told me the whole story and I'd never asked. Truthfully, I hadn't wanted to know all the details. It was enough to know that when he went away for long periods of time, he was no doubt doing something highly dangerous, completely illegal — technically — and one hundred percent sanctioned by some top government guy. "I know he knows a _lot_ of people in a _lot_ of places."

Walker nodded. "So you understand how frustrating it was for him that no one, anywhere, could find you."

Begrudgingly, I nodded. "Fine. I'll cooperate." For Ranger's sake.

"Well," he said as he sat forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "do you have a last name for Adriano? Do you remember where you lived?"

I shook my head. "I don't know hislast name or anything more than I've already said. I know she was in the house alone when he showed up. Then he made her go running with him. She had to match his pace step for step — I could hear her mentally chanting not to fall behind." My eyes narrowed and I tightened my fingers in the blanket. "He was a real bastard, that's for sure."

"He abused you." His voice had taken on a hard edge and I sensed Walker was a man who believed that men who treated women poorly should be castrated, or worse.

"_Her_, he abused her. On the day I dreamed about. I'm not sure how often it happened, but her automated responses to everything he said make me think it was frequent. She did seem surprised when he started to actually hurt her, so maybe that was new? The intensity of his abuse … Walker, I've never seen anything like that in real life. It was like he hated her."

"Stephanie," he began, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

"Don't challenge me on this. I'm not the type of person to let someone do that to me. I would have found something large and beat him with it first." I stared him down and he nodded slowly. "You'll need some pretty compelling arguments to make me believe it was me."

He accepted my comment with a nod and asked, "Before that incident, _she_ was in a house with Marotta and they walked outside to a cemetery?"

I nodded. "It was his family's private cemetery behind the gardens at the back of the house. The landscape was beautiful, very peaceful. Every headstone had Marotta on it, except the two he'd placed there for her." My head dropped back onto my pillow and I raised my hands to rub my eyes.

"We'll need more details on those two stones to research them. So far we've only looked into the names you mentioned after you woke up, but when we get back to the hotel, I'd like you to tell me everything from start to finish." He stood and placed his hands on the side rail he'd raised when he came in. "They're going to release you soon." He hesitated and said, "We're going to do everything we can to get your life back in order."

"You mean the one that barely exists?"

He reached over and squeezed my hand. "Just think of it as on hold. You've got to keep the faith."

I knew he was right. "I'll do my best."

He released my hand and headed out. Opening the door, he shot over his shoulder before he left, "I'll send Ranger back in."

"Thanks." I dropped my head back onto my pillow and stared at the white ceiling above me. The dreams had to be just some wacky way I put myself into a movie or book I'd read, right? Except, I'd never been much of a reader and it was strange that I'd experienced the emotions like they had really been mine. There was also the strange way I had forgotten who I was and didn't remember Ranger and the guys. That bothered me the most.

My eyes fluttered shut and I drifted off to sleep, trying to wish away the events of the past year, whatever they were. When I woke, Ranger was lying beside me on the bed with his arms wrapped around me. I looked up into his eyes and smiled slightly. "Hi."

"Hi," he said, but didn't smile. The tension in his body alerted me to the fact that something had happened.

"What's wrong?"

He reached up to stroke my face. "I had Tank contact an informant of mine in Rome to dig up information on Marotta. He obtained security photos of you from around the city. Apparently they span back for most of the time you were missing."

I sat up with a worried glance. "He did? They do?"

"That's what Tank said. You're being released from the hospital within the hour. The doctor agreed with Young's recommendation. We'll go over everything with Tank and Young at the hotel. Lester's going to Hilliard to do some searching on the names we have."

With my heart in my throat, I said, "Okay. I'll change."

Ranger gave me a slight smile and slid off the bed. "There's a duffle in the bathroom with fresh clothes." He didn't offer to accompany me inside this time and I didn't know if it was because he was afraid I'd reject him or because he had things he wanted to do while I was busy. The way he began punching numbers on his phone suggested the latter. It was clear he wasn't leaving the room, though, so at least he had listened to me about bathroom privacy.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom slowly. While I hadn't cut myself or even drawn blood, the feel of my skin stretching as I moved caused some discomfort. I was also a little dizzy from my head injury. I hadn't heard him move, but his arm snaked around my waist and he escorted me inside with his other hand holding the phone to his ear. With a kiss to my temple, he slipped out and shut the door.

I changed as quickly as possible into the black loose-fitting yoga pants and pink t-shirt I'd found in the small duffle bag. "Ugh," I said when I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. Pink has never been a good color for me. I shook my head and began to pull on my socks, but winced slightly at the burn of raw skin. Once my feet were dressed, shoes included, I stood and pulled the top half of my hair back into a tiny pony tail. I saw my small pack of makeup in the bottom of the duffle, but ignored it. Somehow, mascara didn't seem powerful enough to deal with the bad day I was facing. I had a feeling my past was about to kick my ass.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Lester, Walker, and Ranger were waiting for me. "Tank's waiting outside with a car," Walker said.

I nodded and looked at each of the guys trying to decide who'd gotten the clothes for me. Using my excellent power of deduction, and counting on the fact that Ranger and Walker had stayed with me and Tank never would have picked pink in a hundred years, I wrinkled my nose at Lester. "Really, pink?" I pointed to the t-shirt I wore.

He grinned and shrugged. "I guessed on the color. You're a girl, pink is a girl color."

"Pink is just washed out red; a sad, sad replacement for the real thing. In fact, it's not even a real color, it's just a poser."

Walker shook his head and headed out the door. Ranger, of course, gave no reaction except for a mild movement of his lips, but Lester gave a short bark of laughter. "Noted for future reference, Blue Eyes."

The ride to the hotel was silent and uncomfortable, especially after we dropped Lester off at the Hilliard office. I stared up at the building trying to note its characteristics, but it looked like every other ancient building used for office space in this city. Gray stone construction, beautiful attention to detail, and the feel of _history _about it..

Once in the room, we sat around the dining table with me seated beside Walker, Tank across from me and Ranger standing between us.

"Pull out the images, Tank," Ranger said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was incredibly closed off in that moment, as if I couldn't reach him even if I was inside him. He was in defense mode, so I knew he was stressed about the pictures.

Tank glanced at Ranger and then me. His expression softened and he tilted his head to the side slightly. "You don't know how good it is to see you as yourself again. Watching you freak out, pass out, then wake up and not remember us was freaky. It brought back all the drama from last October: the body, the funeral—"

I snapped my head back having forgotten the conversation from yesterday. "Body?" I gasped. Then I remembered it all. Mary Lou's grief … and Grandma Mazur. With everything that happened after, what I'd learned completely slipped my mind. "You had a funeral for me. With a body that wasn't mine. What a nightmare," I said, then closed my eyes and shook my head. Why hadn't they been able to see that it wasn't me? Why hadn't Ranger known? "I think I need some answers before we break out the incriminating evidence." Not to mention that I wanted to put off looking at those photos for as long as possible. I didn't want to know what I could have gotten myself into when I didn't know who I was.

"Babe," Ranger hesitated.

"No, I need this. This is — _was_ — my life. I think I deserve to know what happened."

Ranger locked eyes with me and then pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down. "How far back do you want to go?"

"Well, I pretty much know you came back to my apartment _that_ night and I was missing. You no doubt searched for me and called up the fires of hell to find me." I smiled sadly. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that much out. Why don't you start with how on _earth_ someone could have confused my body for another?"

Everyone sat back in their seats with somber expressions and Ranger spoke. "We searched for a full month before receiving an anonymous tip that a body matching your description," he paused and I noticed his body tensing. "Turned up in a retention pond near a subdivision outside Trenton."

I scrubbed my hand over my forehead in an attempt to make sense of what he was saying. "But you would have known just by looking at the body that it wasn't me, wouldn't you?"

"No. The body was unrecognizable. The height was right, the hair was right, but nothing else could be determined by sight," he said through clenched teeth and my heart dropped to my stomach. God, to have seen a body in that condition and think it was me? I ached for him and wished for maybe the thousandth time that none of this had happened.

His voice was raw when he spoke again. "The Medical Examiner determined the blood type matched yours. The dental records matched. He was ready to issue the certificate, but I wanted a DNA match. I … wanted to be sure. He was able to make the results a priority. We got the results back in two weeks. The death certificate was issued then."

I sucked in a breath. "October eighteenth," I mumbled, repeating the date Madge Barker had given me. "Oh God…"

"Yeah," Tank muttered. "Dark day in the Rangeman family, Steph."

I felt dizzy. I could only imagine how I would have felt if it had happened in reverse. "Shit," I whispered.

Ranger stood and walked over to the window, looking out over the city. None of us spoke and he remained there for a few minutes. He returned to the table with his blank face in place. "You're obviously not dead, though."

I stared at him, fighting nausea. The implications of how deep this went were overwhelming. Someone had the power to influence the Medical Examiner, and possibly the Forensics lab. I must have gone pale because he suddenly appeared at my side, gripped the back of my neck, and pressed my head between my knees. He lightly massaged my neck and told me to press against his hand and breathe slowly. After a few moments, I gave him a hand signal to let him know I was okay and he let me up.

Tank cleared his throat. "Let's focus on the present for now." He flicked his glance to Ranger's stony posture and then lifted the stack of papers in front of him. "These are prints of the images Spitz emailed me."

I immediately wanted to fast and pray and light a few candles. I didn't know what I'd been up to, but suddenly the prospect of seeing pictures of myself doing whatever it was made me nervous. What if I'd been an assassin and killed people for money, or worse, for pleasure? What if I'd been a stripper … or a hooker? I had no idea, no way of knowing.

My palms started to sweat when Ranger took the stack from Tank and spread them out over the table so they were facing me. I stood up so I could see them and he moved to stand next to me so he could also see them. The first thing I noticed about myself was my hair. In some of the pictures it was shaved, barely longer than a buzz cut. I resisted a shudder and looked through the pictures, noting the changes in hair length.

There was an image of me at a market with a short woman with straight, dark hair and a somber expression on her face. It was the woman from the dream, the one with the baby.

"This woman," I said, pointing at the picture of the two of us. "I dreamed about her the night before Ranger came. She must be a friend of mine. I dreamed that we were at her house. She had a baby."

"Have a name?" Ranger asked.

I shook my head and he picked up the photo and wrote on the back with a black marker: Friend of Camila's? I returned my attention to the pictures. There was one of me at a grocery store, another of me at a bank, possibly alone or with one of the people beside me in line. I looked at the rest of the pictures: one coming out of a cinema where I looked to be alone and two at a hospital. The first was me with the man, Seppe, from my first dream and I was in a hospital bed. In the second, I was walking out the door. I knew it was a hospital because of the telltale crosses on the sliding glass doors which obviously led to an emergency room. Beside me, unbelievably, was Adriano. Seeing that picture made my knees weak with trepidation. Dear God, if that was really me and he was real…

I pointed to it, hand trembling, and said, "That's Adriano." I sank into my chair, my legs having given out. The proof was right in front of me. The dreams weren't dreams. They were memories. The reality of what I'd suffered as this Camila person left me cold.

"That's the guy who hurt you?" Ranger asked, pointing to the bastard walking next to me with his arm possessively around my waist, apparently guiding me around the back of an ambulance parked in the bay.

I nodded. "That's him." The table went silent and I looked up into each of their faces. They all looked deadly right now. The prospect that he'd actually _done _those things to me weighed heavily on my mind and I could tell they were all thinking about it, as well.

The guys studied the pictures of him and I heard Ranger say something to Tank, but I couldn't focus on his words. I apparently married this guy, so I must have loved him on some level. How could I have let him treat me like that? How could Seppe if he cared about me?

In a daze, I mumbled, "The other man is Seppe. He was like a … a father figure to her, uh, me."

My statement was met with silence. I looked up into three different sets of eyes, all staring at me in speculation. It didn't take a genius, knowing that Seppe was a mafia guy, to know that they wondered just how involved I'd been in his life and his business.

Ranger's arm muscles twitched. Oh, he was angry, but I was certain it wasn't directed at me. The pictures confirmed that I'd lived a life as a different person, had connections to a head mafia honcho, and lived in some sort of abusive relationship. I realized, then, the level of patience I'd need to deal with Ranger absorbing all that had happened to me and I resolved to let him work through things on his own because I wasn't sure how to help him when he kept himself so rigid and distant.

Letting go of all my questions for the moment, I studied the picture of me and Seppe again. Something traumatic had happened because not only was I in a hospital bed, but there were tubes and wires connected to me. Seppe sat beside the bed in a chair with his hand gripping mine, an angry expression on his face, and a cell phone to his ear. It was the first time since dreaming of him that I saw him upset and fear blossomed in my gut. The look on his face was murder, pure and simple.

The date on the photo caught my attention just then. I hadn't noticed the photos had them. I checked the others and they all had dates in the bottom right-hand corner. The one on the hospital photo sent a jolt through my body and I sat down, hard, in my chair. It had happened less than two weeks ago. Two weeks, and I didn't remember it.

I sighed in defeat and pressed my fingertips to my eyes to ward off the headache building up rapidly behind the lids.

"Well," Walker said, "you've identified two men who know something about your life this past year. What's more is that we now have confirmation that the dreams are really memories trying to surface."

"Yeah," I mumbled, looking at the photos again. I reached up and slid the photos around so they were in date order and sat up when I was done. "Hey, hang on. There are a few months missing. Look, these are December 2010, here's January 2011 ... then nothing until June 2011. That's a huge gap."

"Right," Tank said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

"Talk," Ranger said.

"Well," Tank began, "I have a few more photos in a separate envelope. Spitz said I might want to show them privately." He stared at Ranger, his eyes full of sadness and regret.

"You've seen them?" Ranger asked and Tank nodded. "Give them to me," Ranger said darkly.

The look in Tank's eyes made me nervous. He looked scared, but I was sure it wasn't for himself.

"First. I think that you both should do this together, alone." Ranger studied him and Walker got up and went into the bedroom, pulling out his phone as he went. Tank stood and his hand nervously tapped the edge of the padded envelope. "I don't want you to look into these too closely. There could be a logical explanation. We just need to figure out what it is," he said, stalling.

Ranger snapped his fingers, then opened his hand and held it out to Tank, palm up.

Tank slid the package into Ranger's hand and gulped audibly. My whole body began to shake. Something told me I did _not_ want Ranger to see those photos of me, but I was powerless to stop him.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: I'm just barely making it before midnight on Saturday morning. I know! I'm so sorry. I've been having issues with this chapter and it's finally ready for you. I want to thank Rach for going above and beyond the call of duty tonight and helping me resolve issues I didn't know I had. What a long night! I'll have to reward you guys with an extra chapter this week for putting up with me being so late!_

…

FromChapter12:

_Ranger snapped his fingers, then opened his hand and held it out to Tank, palm up._

_Tank slid the package into Ranger's hand and gulped audibly. My whole body began to shake. Something told me I did not want Ranger to see those photos of me, but I was powerless to stop him._

…

Chapter 13

Tank turned to leave and Ranger said, "Stay." Tank glanced at me and then sank into his chair, staring at the envelope in Ranger's hands. I didn't know whether to be grateful that Ranger had left me an ally in the room — not that he was my enemy right now, but things were so strained and the pictures made me nervous — or upset that he didn't want to be alone with me. Ranger pulled out the photos and flipped through each of them in silence. The rage I saw steadily building in his eyes spoke volumes. When he finished the stack, he fixed a dark look on Tank.

Tank closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to look at either of us. The enormity of what the pictures showed weighed so heavily on my shoulders I nearly buckled under it. A small tick started in my left eye and I blinked several times to hide it. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what trouble did I get myself into while I was living as someone else?

The muscle in Ranger's jaw worked furiously as he looked through the photos again, this time more slowly. As each new photo was revealed, he stared at it and then moved it to the back of the stack until he'd gone through them twice more.

With each pass of the photos, his expression grew darker and darker, but his eyes grew deader and deader. He gripped the stack in his hand for a moment, slowly breathing in and out, and then slid them back into the envelope. He gave the envelope to Tank and walked toward the door. He didn't flick so much as a glance at me, just merely said to Tank, "I'm going for a walk. Show her the pictures. I'll deal with this when I get back."

"Ranger," I said, my voice a strangled whisper.

He gave a slight shake of his head and continued out the door. Fuck. His obvious rejection had a stunning effect on my ability to breathe right then. The pain started low in my gut and moved its way up to my shoulders, hindering my thoughts and immobilizing my lungs. At that moment, I didn't care what was in the pictures, I wanted to take a baseball bat to whoever had kidnapped me and forced me into a life I didn't want to remember. Whoever it was had caused all of this hurt and screwed up everything.

I rubbed my chest as if I could soothe the spot that hurt. A small fissure had begun in my heart the second Ranger left and I felt myself bleed from it. The pictures had affected his trust in me. I looked at Tank and said in a dead voice, "Well? He left, Tank. The day can't get much worse, so why don't you show me the damn pictures now."

Tank sighed and handed the envelope to me. "I'm really sorry about this."

With shaking fingers, I opened the envelope and drew out the photos. The first picture showed me at an outdoor market, the same market from one of the other pictures. I was wearing khakis and a white long-sleeved blouse with an empire cut waist. I had gained weight and wrinkled my nose at seeing a picture of a pudgy me. In the next picture, I saw the reason I looked chunkier. "Oh my God!" I shouted, dropping the pictures onto the table and pressing my hands to my smooth, flat stomach.

I grabbed the stack and tore through the pictures again; each revealed me in various stages of pregnancy. I stared at the last photo for a long time. April 12, 2011. I was leaving a hospital in a wheelchair, a nurse with a pleasant expression pushing the chair. In my arms was a baby wrapped expertly in a blanket. The baby wasn't as much of a surprise as my expression: awe, happiness, love. I'd been happy to have that baby. Now I knew the universe had tipped onto its axis because merely the _thought_ of having a baby gave me hives, let alone _actually _having one. I was certain my current expression didn't mirror the one in the photograph.

Pictures back on the table and arms wrapped around my middle, I made a strangled noise and began to pace back and forth in front of the front door. "I had a baby?" My voice was barely more than a squeak. This could _not_ be real. Explanations raced through my mind: the pictures were doctored, it was a doll, I'd been wearing a prosthetic belly. All very reasonable answers. I certainly didn't _feel_ like I'd had a baby.

When I'd looked through the pictures, Tank had lowered his head slowly, inch by inch, until his chin was nearly resting on his chest. At my question, he raised his head and looked at me, his expression unsure. "It looks that way, Sweetness."

Horror filled every cell in my body and I fell forward in shock, hands out to steady myself on the table, but it seemed to move away from me the more I reached for it. The last thing I heard before I blacked out was Tank shouting my name.

…

_I heard a car door slam and my heart thudded in my chest. I quickly put the bowl I was washing back into the sudsy water. He was here. He didn't like it when I wasn't there to greet him and I needed to get out there fast. The last thing I wanted was his anger. Yesterday's run-in with the mirror was bad enough and the cuts on my front still stung when I moved._

_Quickly drying my hands on the towel, I darted out of the kitchen down the hall to the living room and made it barely a second before he walked in. I forced myself to breathe slowly through my nose and planted a smile on my face and he came over to stand in front of me. I hoped he didn't notice my cheeks were flushed. "How are you today, Camila?"_

_"I'm well, Adriano. May I interest you in a beverage?" _

_"Espresso. Make it the way I like it this time," he said with a cold smile._

_"Yes, Adriano." That smile left no room for mistakes. He wanted perfection. I'd have to calm down my hands and concentrate even if I didn't believe for one moment that my actual expertise played a part in whether or not he was happy with me._

_I went to the fridge and pulled out a fresh bottle of purified water and got a had a flash of déjà vu; except it was another refrigerator, loaded with bottles of water on the bottom shelf. Somehow, just seeing the fridge, I knew the contents, though all the drawers were closed: fruit, vegetables, lettuce, and lean deli meats, light cheeses, plain yogurt, a jar of peanut butter, a chocolate bar, and two cans of Coke. Instead of a narrow fridge shoved between two cabinets, this one was huge, stainless steel in a modern kitchen with black granite countertops, cherry wood cabinets, charcoal gray slate floor, and a matching island leading into a modern chrome and glass dining room._

_Where had that come from? I shook my head and turned back to the espresso machine. I had to concentrate and do everything just right. Drawing in a deep breath, I began the process and completed the job with steady hands and determination. When it was finished, I poured the freshly brewed espresso into a small cup with a matching saucer, careful not to spill any, and carried it out to Adriano. I tried not to feel as if I were awaiting a death sentence, but it was hard not to feel that way._

_He gave me the frigid smile again and took a sample sip. He lowered the cup and nodded once. "Perfect. Surprising given yesterday's performance."_

_"Thank you, Adriano. Yesterday certainly wasn't ideal." He said nothing and I waited patiently until he finished his espresso and then took his cup and saucer from him._

_"Is there anything you wanted today, Camila?" He asked, adjusting his jacket, getting ready to leave. I was surprised. The man had never asked me if I 'wanted' anything even back when we were on good terms. I was also suspicious, but didn't dare lie._

_"Yes, please, Adriano. I've done everything you asked today and you've been pleased. Would it be ... may I see him?" I asked._

_He studied me for a moment and then he nodded. "Come, I will take you to him."_

_I smiled my gratitude. "Let me just take these to the kitchen." I indicated to the cup and saucer in my hands. I hurried to set them in the sink and returned to the living room to follow him out to his car. "Thank you, Adriano." _

_"It is my pleasure," he said, and for the brief moment in time, I think he meant it._

_Five minutes later, we pulled into a long driveway. The house ahead was a single story with tall front windows and a wooden front door with a rounded top. It was quaint and beautiful. This was my son's home now, his prison away from my prison. __Adriano had removed him from our home two days ago. It was my ultimate punishment for spending the night before in Luca's arms. The first and last I would ever have with the man I hadn't meant to fall in love with. I should have known Adriano would have me followed. He promised to kill Luca if I ever made contact again, and taking away my son would be the daily heartbreak he'd use to keep me in line._

_Exuding patience, I waited in the car while Adriano pulled the perfect gentleman routine and opened my car door. I exited the car and put my hand through the crook in his arm. He led me up a cobblestone path and into the house. It was decorated in Italian Old World style with aged stone, rugs, handcrafted wooden and iron furniture with plush cushions and upholstery, handmade candles, and ornate decorations in iron, wood, and glass. My interest in this house didn't lie with the furnishings, I had only one purpose for being here._

_After closing the door, he said, "Go. Down the hall, last door on the left. He's in the nursery. I will collect you when it is time to go."_

_"Thank you, Adriano." I gave him a perfunctory kiss on the mouth, and then walked back to the nursery with careful, unhurried steps. The urge to grab my son and run away with him was so strong that I dug my fingernails into my palms to stay focused. There was nowhere I could run and keep us safe._

_His nanny, Maria, was holding him when I arrived. She looked at me and I thought I saw pity in her eyes. Until yesterday, we'd been a family of sorts. She'd cared for Carlo in my home, we'd talked and shared stories over cups of coffee. Now, we weren't allowed to see each other and we were deathly afraid to speak at all. I craved a friend, but it wasn't a realistic wish for me to have at this point in my life. "Hello, Camila. Here is your precious boy."_

_She stood and lowered him from her shoulder to cradle him in her arms. I walked over and took my son, bending to accommodate our differences in height. He was young, but so handsome already at nearly two months old. He had bright blue eyes and silky dark brown hair that was straight and neatly combed forward on his fragile scalp. _My eyes and his father's hair.

_Except his father, Teo, had curly brown hair, so where had that thought come from?_

_My heart ached when I thought of how unfair life was. Teo dying in the plane crash after we'd been engaged less than a month, before either of us even knew I was pregnant. The tumor erasing some of my memories of him, the first man I ever loved. The crucial misconception that marrying Adriano, a man I didn't love, would be better than raising a child without a father. _

_I sat in the rocking chair with him and stroked my fingertip over his cheek. Maria handed me a bottle and I fed him, listening to the sounds of his little gulps and watching his eyes droop lower and lower with each pull on the nipple. I kissed his smooth forehead and placed his tiny hand over my nose. His fingers closed around it and I kissed his wrist. How I loved this little boy._

_This was the best time I'd had the whole week. Anytime I spent with Carlo was joy to me. Today it was bittersweet. Still a joyful experience, but heartbreaking because I knew I'd have to leave. He was everything to me and Adriano had taken him away and, too soon, I saw Adriano's lean body in the door frame. "It is time to tell Giancarlo good bye, Camila. You will see him again." I hated myself for doing it, but my heart clung to his promise in desperation only a mother would understand._

_I was supposed to keep it together and not cry. I was supposed to maintain a neutral expression at all times because Adriano could not handle any show of emotion. But as soon as I handed my baby to Maria, my world crumbled. Someone else was to raise my child while I only got short, infrequent visits. It was more than my wounded spirit and battered pride could handle. There, in front of Adriano at the doorway, I broke down and wept._

_In a flash, Adriano struck my cheek, sending me reeling. I reached out and caught the bookcase to steady myself so I wouldn't topple over. It was the first time he'd truly hit me and I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. "Shut up," he said through his teeth and then he grabbed my upper arm and yanked me out of the room, out of the house, and back to his car. He didn't need to say a word, I already knew I'd broken one of his rules and there would be punishment for it. I only prayed it wouldn't be worse than yesterday._

_When we got to the house, he calmly told me to get out and go to the bedroom. I did, as quickly as possible. It was a while before I heard the front door shut and I wondered what had taken him so long. Was he dragging out the torture, making me wait, to see when he'd come in, to worry? It was working._

_"Camila," he said as he entered the bedroom. "I watch you with that _thing _and it makes me sick. That child, a bastard…he was supposed to be _mine_!" He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, getting in my face as said, "Do you know how embarrassed I am that you did not put my name on his birth certificate? Hmm?"_

_Against the pressure of his hand, I shook my head 'no'._

_He released me and stepped back. He walked slowly back and forth at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and then the cuffs of his sleeves. "No, you don't know. Because you just put a dead man's name on it, without _asking _me how I felt about it. I married you to give him my damned name, Camila! So that we could be a family! And you spit on my love for you."_

_I stood my ground when he advanced on me and willed myself not to flinch when he lifted his hand to caress my cheek, then he grabbed my jaw and looked hard into my eyes. "I don't know why you are not pregnant with _my_ child, yet, but you will be. After today." He leaned down and bit the top of my shoulder. I clenched my teeth against the pain and he raised his head, dark eyes narrowed. "If you are pregnant with Luca's bastard, Camila, I will kill you."_

…

My eyes opened and met Tank's worried glance. My first realization was that I'd passed out and had another dream again. The second was that I knew I'd had a dream and didn't seem to be confused about who I was. Both good things, right?

I pushed myself up and Tank helped me into a chair. My next thought was of Carlo. My son. But who was his father? Born in April, he had to be Ranger's, right? Immediately, I started counting out the months in my head, ignoring the questions Tank fired at me, and batting away Walker's hands as he tried to look me over. I wanted to figure it all out before I got too distracted.

Tank spoke to Walker and Walker left the hotel room. I didn't have long before Ranger would be back, so I closed my eyes and calculated everything in my head. I'd gone missing in September, about two months after Ranger and I started dating. Our first date was only a couple of weeks after Morelli and I had broken up. Two weeks wasn't a huge window and I felt a little panicky.

"Shit!" I needed some air. I stood and charged toward the door and out of the suite into the hallway. I heard Tank yell for me, but I didn't stop. I tore down the stairs and out of the hotel, running for all I was worth, and bolted down the sidewalk, not seeing, not hearing, but trying to stop feeling.

Despite the fact that my raw skin ached and burned, I ran down several streets, turning this way and that, feeling the wind in my hair and suddenly glad for the loose clothing Lester had brought me this morning. I settled into a quick pace and ended up running down a long, straight road with multiple lanes of traffic. When I saw the Arc de Triomphe ahead, I remembered the street was called the Champs-Elysées. I'd seen pictures of this very scene before. I'd always wanted to visit Paris. How ironic.

Onward I ran, past the Arc, and down another side street. I slowed when my muscles tightened and began to cramp. I bent at the waist, braced my hands on my knees, and gulped air. The horror of what I'd done suddenly hit me somewhere around the middle of my forehead. Shit. Damn.

I'd run. Run away from Tank, and essentially from Ranger. I looked around. Here I was in Paris, with lots of people walking by me, some giving me strange looks, overheated in my long pants and long-sleeved shirt, and alone. Again. This time, I was smart enough to fear being alone. I'd been passing out, having strange dreams, and waking up not knowing myself. What a brilliant idea to take off for a run. Especially when the men I ran from were still recovering from my latest disappearance.

What had I done?

Overwhelmed, I sat on a bench and hot tears streamed down my face. I'm normally a private crier because if I really cry, it's ugly and violent. No one needs to see that. Ever. But here on a park bench not one-hundred yards from a famous Parisian landmark, I lost it and was having the ugly cry of the century. Heart-wrenching, gut-twisting sobs tore through my throat. I bent over my legs, arms wrapped around my calves, face pressed between my knees, and cried my heart out.

Guilt, anger, pain, confusion all melded into one big tight ball in my chest and I had no idea how to deal with any of them. Guilt made me eat. Anger made me hit. Pain made me lash out verbally. Confusion made me think harder. Together? Really, really big cry. I felt like a soap opera queen and even that thought couldn't stop me. Just great.

Someone sat beside me on the bench and I tensed. I tried to douse my cries, but ended up making a strange gagging, snorting noise that embarrassed me more than the crying had. All I needed to do was get to the hiccup-belch stage and my humiliation would be complete.

A gentle touch to my arm, a nudge, really, had me peeking over. I couldn't see anything through my tears, except a white blur close to my face. A tissue. Thank God. My yoga pants were soaked with tears and snot and whatever else had come out from me during the jag. Maybe blood from my bleeding heart? Who knew?

I nodded my thanks and began mopping up my face, sniffling heavily, shoulders getting into it. God, I was going to have a stuffed head after this. I hated crying worse than anything and the aftereffects really sucked.

The person, a man, nudged another tissue toward me. He was dressed in black. French Merry Man? It wasn't Ranger, no Bvlgari. And I wouldn't need it to identify him anyway, because his energy signature alone was enough to send every neuron in my body into a new dimension.

I accepted the tissue and blew my nose, then another and another, until I was practically snot free and the only moisture on my face were the few new tears that dribbled down from my no doubt red-rimmed eyes.

"Thank you," I said, finally able to see well enough to look at the person. Lester. I sagged against the back of the bench and shook my head, in relief and annoyance at the predictability. Of course someone followed me. "I'm glad you're here," I surprised myself by admitting to him.

It was a surprise to him, too. He raised a brow and handed me a fresh tissue. "Running wasn't a great idea, Blue."

Shaking my head, I managed a small laugh. "I know. Believe it or not, I just reacted. I needed air. Then I realized what I'd done and, well, you saw my reaction to that." Okay, so I hadn't been crying _just _about that, but it was too complicated to explain just now.

He looked at the street in silence, body rigid, jaw tight. "You can't do that shit, Stephanie."

If he'd dumped piles of burning coals on my head, I couldn't have felt worse. "I know, Les. It was just a shock. Trust me, you can't know how finding out something like that feels to a woman. Men, it happens to all the time, but they don't go through it, experience it, and then forget it. I can't imagine how I couldn't have _known_."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn slowly toward me. "What? Going missing and waking up to find out you missed a huge chunk of time? I don't think blacking out from a rough night with the guys is really comparable to this…"

It was my turn to slowly turn my head toward him. "Um, Tank didn't fill you in?"

He shrugged. "Didn't have time to chat with Tank. I was climbing out of a cab when I saw you bolt out of the hotel at mock speed. You ran so fast Tank couldn't catch you, he was a good thirty seconds behind. Damn, you can really run."

I shrugged. "Guess I have a new escape for when my world falls apart."

"Okay." His tone said 'I'm waiting' and the telltale twitch in his legs emphasized impatience. "And you were running from Tank because…"

"Lester. I had a baby. In April."

"Bullshit."

I shook my head. "No. A baby. A boy."

"Shut the fuck up!" He stood and took several steps down the sidewalk and then returned, plopped onto the bench, and stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.

I held up my hands in a defensive gesture. "Don't look at me. I didn't know until Tank showed me the pictures just … before I left."

His eyes traveled down to my breasts and then my stomach, then back up to my face. "I knew something was different, but it's been so long since I've seen you, who stops to analyze?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I mimicked him. "Where do you get off telling me my body looks different?"

Lester smirked. "Who are you talking to? I'd know if the sweet ass on the grocery store clerk where I buy my food changed in a heartbeat. I have a mental visual of every woman I've ever seen. And you, Blue Eyes, have changed. It's slight, but it's there."

I sent him a disgusted look. "You're still a pig."

"You still love me."

"Yeah."

"Is it Ranger's or Morelli's baby?"

God, I hated that I couldn't give him an answer. I closed my eyes and pictured my son, Giancarlo, really saw him. And then I remembered. There was no way he _wasn__'__t _Ranger's son. After Joe and I broke up, I'd gotten an IUD inserted. In order to qualify for it, I couldn't be pregnant, so my doctor had done a pregnancy test. It was negative. Ranger was the only possible father for my baby.

"He's Ranger's"

"How do you know? Nine months back is July."

"Because I had a pregnancy test after Morelli and it was negative, okay?"

"Glad to hear it."

I looked at Lester, watching as he studied the street and the pedestrians around us. He was in full work mode, my bodyguard. My friend. He had been Ranger's friend before this all happened.

"Les?"

"Yeah," he answered without looking away from our surroundings.

"What's up with you and Ranger?"

He flicked his eyes at me and then back to the street. "Not important."

"It is."

"Not."

"It is to me."

He huffed out a breath and pursed his lips and I knew he'd tell me.

"He won't be happy with me for telling you this," Lester said. His voice was quiet, somber.

I thought about it. If Lester told me something horrible, would I be able to keep my mouth shut about it? I didn't want to make their relationship worse. Then again, I didn't know where they stood so how could I avoid making it worse without knowing? "Tell me."

"For you to understand, you need to know a little history." He turned to the side and rested his arm along the back of the bench. "Ranger is two years older than me. We grew up in the same neighborhood. I followed his footsteps and joined the gang he was in when I was thirteen. He wasn't happy about it, but what could he say? He's always been the 'do what I say, not what I do' kind of guy. Still, we've always had each other's backs."

His tone was neutral, but I sensed the hurt that hovered just beneath the surface. It had been bad and he still hadn't forgiven Ranger. It made me sad to think Ranger had gotten to a place where he could hurt Lester so deeply … and that they hadn't resolved it.

"I dated his cousin, Rita, for four years, starting when we were both sixteen. They were close and Ranger was pissed. He worried that she'd get hurt. Well, she got pregnant when we were nineteen. Had a little girl. Total daddy's girl. Stopped crying whenever I spoke to her."

"Les…" I had to stop him. This was hard for him, I could tell.

He shook his head. "No, it's time you knew some things, Blue." His fingers began tapping the back of the bench, the only indication of his agitation. "Rita didn't like me being in the gang and she meant more to me, so I quit. They killed her. We were twenty. She was on the way home from her mother's house. They ran her off the road. She had Sofia with her." He stood and stared, unseeingly, at the Arc de Triomphe. "My little girl was three months old. Rita and I were engaged."

"Shit," I whispered.

Lester shrugged. "Hey, we were young. We'd probably be divorced by now. Statistics, right?" I didn't say anything and he sat back down on the edge of the bench. "When the evidence came back proving that body was you, Ranger lost it. I've never seen him like that. Went to see him one night, thought I'd try to talk to him. I lost Rita, I knew how he felt."

"But he didn't want to hear it?"

"I couldn't find him at first. On a hunch I went to your apartment. Found him kicking the hell out of the place. He'd destroyed everything that could be destroyed. Good thing Rex was long gone or he'd have been homeless."

Rex. He'd given up the ghost about six months before my breakup with Morelli. I'd been upset, but he'd had a long hamster life and he hadn't suffered. At least he hadn't been murdered or eaten by a cat.

Lester bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I had to restrain him. Told him I understood. He told me I didn't. Then he blamed me for Rita's death, that if I'd left her alone like he said…" He drew in a slow breath and said, "Blamed himself for yours. Looking back, I don't think he knew what he was saying, but it cut deep."

"I'm sure it did." I watched him clench and unclench his jaw for several minutes and then said, "You're waiting for him to apologize."

"I don't know what I want. Maybe him to acknowledge he was out of line. I couldn't stop myself from loving Rita, same way he couldn't keep from loving you. Sometimes love isn't a choice. Sometimes it's just too powerful to ignore." He shrugged and got to his feet. "Come on, let's get you back. Ranger's probably threatening to rip Tank a new asshole."

"Or already in the process," I said.

Lester and I jogged back to the hotel together. I was disturbed to find out I enjoyed the run. My life was so screwed up.

Just when we rounded the corner of the hotel, two strong hands grabbed my shoulders from behind. I yelped and Lester stopped, turned around, and then froze.

I knew that meant only one thing. Ranger.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: _

…

FromChapter13:

_Just when we rounded the corner of the hotel, two strong hands grabbed my shoulders from behind. I yelped and Lester stopped, turned around, and then froze._

_I knew that meant only one thing. Ranger._

…

Chapter 14

I turned my head to look at him and met his familiar eyes, hardened to pitch black. Ranger was … well, pissed off seemed too _tame _of a word. He continued to stare at me, with potent and unblinking focus. His hair was disheveled, short as it is, as if he'd run his hands through it many times, and he was obviously _infuriated_.

"Why?" I barely heard the word over his harsh tone.

"I just reacted." My best course of action, I realized, was to answer with direct and honest words. "When the shock wore off, I realized what I'd done and I was scared to be out there alone with all the passing out stuff. But Lester showed up, he'd followed me."

"You were afraid?" I nodded and his lips thinned. "You disappeared again," he said. The quiet in his voice stalled any defensive retort I may have made.

Lester took a step toward us and I gave him a slight shake of my head. No, I had to handle this on my own. I'd expected a reaction like this from Ranger. The look he gave me asked if I was sure. I was. He nodded and turned around, heading inside.

With Lester gone, I drew in a slow breath and looked up at Ranger, doing my best not to flinch under the force of the anger radiating from his eyes. Damn, I needed to learn how to curb my gut reactions. I sighed and closed my eyes briefly before answering. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"No, you didn't." He gripped my upper arms, not enough to hurt me, but enough to let me feel the tremors of fury in his muscles. "In case you forgot, we went through hell the first time you disappeared. You remember that? When you went away and had a baby no one knew about?"

I felt as if he'd slapped me and that quick fire temper of mine flared instantly. "Do _not _tell me that you think I did all of this on purpose, faked my death, so that I could avoid having to tell you I was pregnant. Don't even _think _about suggesting it. You might be bigger than me and stronger than me, but I will so kick your ass if you go there."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when they opened there was a slight look of remorse when he said, "No. I know you didn't leave by choice. Just tell me if you knew you were pregnant when we started dating."

"So now you're not only assuming the baby is Morelli's but that, what, I was trying to pull a fast one on you when we got together?"

"I'm asking you to tell me how the fuck this happened, because none of the scenarios I've come up with make sense."

"And I'm asking you to grow a fucking brain, Ranger!"

"Stephanie." He reached up to take my arms in his again and I stepped back with a hand up to keep him at arm's length. He put his hands down, face taut, and said, "Please tell me."

I'd expected him to be worried about who the father was, but I couldn't believe that he was questioning whether I'd lied to him. Somewhere in the back of my compassionate mind, I knew he just wanted assurance. But right now all I could think about was that he was breaking my heart. And that pissed. me. off.

I started toward the hotel and he magically stepped in front of me without looking like he'd hurried at all. "Where are you going?"

"Inside."

"We're not done talking."

"Oh, I'd say we were finished."

I willed myself to take another step away from him even though my heart felt like it was going to explode into a million pieces. I hadn't wanted it to sound the way it sounded, but I was too proud to amend it now.

"I was out of line," he said, so low I almost didn't hear it. I stopped and turned my ear back toward him slightly to show I was listening, but remained silent. He moved to stand right behind me and said, "I'm sorry. I just need some answers." His voice was low, full of pain.

I wondered if I would have felt the same way if our positions had been reversed. What if he'd had a girlfriend before me who suddenly had a kid nine months after they broke up? Would I be so understanding about it?

I slipped my hands into my pockets and turned around to face him, slowly. My lips were dry so I licked them before replying. "I don't know how it happened, but it happened with you. I guess my IUD didn't work." I'd gotten the device so I couldn't have any accidents. It was part of that 'let's get responsible' kick I'd been on when I got home from Tahiti. It had dawned on me back then that sleeping with Ranger and Joe in the same week could have produced a hellish pregnancy debacle. Oh, the irony.

Ranger's eyebrows drew together. "Or you were already pregnant when you got it."

"The doctor did a pregnancy test before she gave me the IUD. It was negative!"

"Could have been a false negative."

"Why would she give me an IUD if she couldn't be certain I wasn't already pregnant? I had to wait until I was _on_ my period to get the thing! The same period I started the night of our first date, in July, remember? I'm telling you, the IUD must not have done its job." That seemed to get through to him. And then it got through to me.

"Shit, Ranger. If the IUD was never working…" then we'd just had unprotected sex for two days. Just like we'd had unprotected sex for nearly two months because we thought everything was covered. Today we found out that we had a baby, we didn't know where the baby was, and that we'd put ourselves in jeopardy of having another one. I wanted to throw up.

Despite the clenching in his jaw, he sounded calmer when he said, "One thing at a time." He lifted his hands to take my arms again, only gentler this time. "Did you know you were pregnant before you were taken?"

My mouth dropped open on a gasp and I locked my knees to keep from stamping my foot. "Seriously?"

"How could you not know?"

I tried to jerk my arms to get free, but he was an immoveable force. "Gee, Ranger. I didn't think I could get pregnant. They told me that thing would make my periods taper off. I didn't think a thing about it when I didn't have one in August because I thought that was supposed to happen!"

"You should have asked your doctor."

"You can go to hell!" How dare he put this on me?

"Thanks, but I did that once today." He turned, releasing one of my arms, and headed toward the hotel.

I tugged on my arm, but couldn't get free of his grasp. "Let go of me!" I shouted. "I'll come back to the hotel, but you're not going to drag me back like a criminal."

He stopped, still facing toward the hotel, but didn't release my arm. I struggled again for a minute and he tightened his hand fractionally. I clenched my teeth and breathed roughly through my nose. "I'm not going anywhere with you like this."

Ranger didn't turn around, but he seemed to deflate a little. He tilted his face back toward me and said, "Today you ran. You promised to keep someone with you."

"I know," I said. "But you left, too, Ranger." I waited until he acknowledged my statement with a nod. "Why?"

He wrapped his hands around my arms again, this time in a loose grasp, sliding his hands up and down, shoulders to elbows. "I was hurt, confused." He tugged me toward him and his hands moved to my back as he drew me into a hug. "I didn't know what to think."

"And now?" I held my breath so I wouldn't breathe hard and let him know how much his answer meant to me.

"I don't know. Another kid, Stephanie. I'm not even a good dad to the one I already had."

I could deal with that kind of fear. I was worried about being a parent, too.

"This one's a boy," I said and he gave me a look that clearly asked how I thought that mattered. "Maybe you'll have more common ground with a boy. Guns. Cops and robbers. You know?"

"Would I have to play the cop?" He asked more light-hearted, but then he sobered. "Name?"

"Giancarlo, Carlo for short."

"We'll find him."

…

Activity in the room came to an abrupt halt when I walked through the door. Walker and Tank simply stared at me for several seconds, then Tank started in.

"What the hell did you—"

"Stephanie," Walker said, cutting off Tank with a wave of his hand. "Good to see you're okay. We were worried." At least one of the angry men now surrounding me was rational. "Running off wasn't ideal."

I nodded. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying everyone." I sent an apologetic look to Tank. Then I turned to Walker. "I need to talk to you."

I felt Ranger's presence behind me and turned around, asking for his understanding. "Alone."

Ranger's eyes flicked to Walker and stayed for a second, probably sending a message via ESP, and then he nodded once.

I followed Walker into the bedroom and sat on the loveseat. Walker pulled the armchair by the door over and sat in front of me with an expectant look on his face.

"I need you to get inside my mind. Fast." He cocked his head to the side, listening and contemplating my words. "I had another dream before I ran off. Me—Camila—with Adriano. We went to see the baby. I know what he looks like." Walker started to speak and I held up my hand. "There's more. When I woke, I knew who I was. I mean, I wasn't confused.

His eyebrows lifted. "Big development," he said.

"I know this stuff is all right here." I gestured toward my head. "Can't you do anything to move this along?" He began to speak, but I interrupted again. "I mean, are there any 'head' things you can do to jump start my memories? Seems to me that if I can fall asleep and dream about it, then you could somehow, you know… make it happen on purpose?"

"My plan was to use EMDR on you."

"What's that?"

"Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Okay."

"It's a therapy that focuses on helping your cognitive and neurological coping mechanisms deal with trauma-related memories. If you have an event that causes you distress or that your mind can't cope with, it can trigger a trauma response. In your case, your mind completely shuts down and you lose the conscious ability to control your thoughts. EMDR would address those responses and help your mind develop more adaptive coping mechanisms. In other words, help you to stop shutting down and passing out."

"So, I'd … be able to remember things while awake?"

"Ideally, yes. There are several steps to the process. First, we identify the trauma events. That's easy, we know what they are thanks to your dreams." I nodded for him to continue. "Next we establish a safe place, a place or thing for you to focus on that feels safe." I immediately thought of Ranger, despite the unresolved mistrust currently between us. "After that, we actually begin the therapy. I'd start by showing you pictures that represent your trauma. In this case, it'd be the security photos of you. I'd ask for your feedback on what you feel, what you see, and any feelings or memories that surface when you see the pictures."

"What if I can't see or feel anything?"

He sat up slightly. "We have to be patient. Not everything will give you a response and not every response is a good indicator of how you cope with the trauma."

I sighed. This sounded like a lengthy process. Something we definitely didn't have time for. "We're talking about a baby, Walker, _my _kid. We don't have time to play it safe."

"Stephanie, real therapy, the good kind, is time-consuming. You need real therapy, not a Band-Aid. And not a method that could potentially hurt you even more."

"But there are other, faster ways?"

"What I'm trying to tell you is that we have no guarantees that using drugs or any other drastic method will help you remember anything else important to the case. In fact, following up on the names we learned from your dreams is a lot more productive than shooting you full of experimental serums."

"Do you think I have an abundance of patience right now?"

He put his hands on my shoulders. "Stephanie, no matter what we do, I'll still have to ask you hard questions. Questions that will be uncomfortable and traumatic."

"Nothing could be more traumatic than finding out there's a baby out there who's missing!"

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah!"

He narrowed his eyes at me and crossed his arms. "How did you get the scars on your back, Stephanie?"

I reared back as if he'd kicked me. "What scars?"

He cocked his head to the side a little. "The scars. On your back."

"I don't have—" To my knowledge, I'd never run as fast as I did in that moment. Walker was right behind me. I yanked my pink t-shirt off and turned around, back to the mirror, and cranked my head back to look. A four inch deep section between my shoulder blades was covered in scars. Most of them ran together, forming long lacerations, red and angry, against the peach tone of my flesh.

"Holyyyy," I said and started to hyperventilate. Omigod, omigod. What the hell? What the _hell_? "What the fuck is that?" I gasped out breathlessly.

Before I realized it, I was already falling, slipping into the familiar blackness, unable to stop myself from going into another dream.

…

_The stockings Adriano had grabbed from my wardrobe were tied tightly enough to bite into my wrists and ankles, making my hands and feet go numb. He got down on one knee next to the edge of the bed. His clothes were soaked with sweat from exertion. He lowered himself until his eyes were level with mine. "Tell me that you don't hate me."_

"_I don't hate you," I whispered. "To hate you, I'd have to care."_

_He snarled and stood up again. I struggled against the restraints on my wrists and ankles, but couldn't go anywhere to escape what was coming. I heard the whip fly back and then slice through the air before he hit his target and I screamed._

_Just when I thought he'd hit me again, a familiar scent pulled me up and away, out of Adriano's reach._

…

Bvlgari. Ranger. I snapped my eyes open and looked into Ranger's concerned face, blinking.

"What happened?" he asked Walker.

"I asked about the scars on her back. She didn't know she had any."

"Babe," Ranger said, squatting down to lift me off the floor. "It's okay. They don't matter."

"Don't matter!" I shouted. "Of course they matter! How could I let anyone do this to me?"

"You probably didn't have a choice."

I began to shake. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. I wouldn't have let someone do this to me. They were an atrocious sight and looked like oddly shaped cuts, like when Kloughn tried to carve the turkey at Thanksgiving.

The ridiculous thought made me laugh. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I was crying and couldn't stop. I found myself tight in Ranger's arms, my nails digging into his back, my mouth pressed into his shoulder to muffle the sounds. I was terrified and angry and didn't know how to handle either emotion.

Afterward, I sat across Ranger's lap on the floor, dazed, blinking, and breathing and not much else. Somewhere along the way, Ranger had put my t-shirt back on me and I would have been grateful if I could find it in me to care.

Walker said, "Something about this whole situation doesn't sit well with me. Whatever was done to her either didn't work or they decided to undo it."

"Is that even possible?" Ranger asked.

"No, maybe not on purpose. That's why I'm leaning toward the theory that their method didn't work on her."

I sat up. "In one of the flashbacks Camila had this whole déjà vu thing about Haywood, uh, Ranger's apartment in the Trenton Rangeman building."

"Interesting," Walker said. Was 'interesting' a good thing?

"So you're saying 'they' just dumped me off because I was remembering myself? Why not just kill me?" Not that I wanted them to kill me, but letting me live didn't make sense, either.

"I don't know," Walker said.

"You okay now?" Ranger asked me.

I took in a deep breath and let it out. "I think so. Sorry, this was just a bit much." I looked at him and asked, "Why didn't you say anything about my back before?"

Ranger kissed my forehead and said, "Didn't know where to start."

I shook my head. "Maybe it's best that I didn't see them before now. I'm not sure at that point I could have handled it." I hugged Ranger and he tightened his arms around me. "Walker and I need to finish going over some things."

He helped me to my feet and stood, kissing my temple. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Walker and I followed him out of the bathroom and when he shut the door, I turned to Walker and said. "We need to talk about those drugs."


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: _

…

Chapter 15

Walker said, "We've talked about this, Stephanie. I said no. You know how I feel about it."

"But what about how _I _feel about it. Ranger told me you took special cases, helped people who were missing chunks of time. I have a hard time believing you've never used any of these other methods." I stared him down.

"Stephanie…"

"You have used other methods before, I know it. There's a way to do this faster."

He leaned toward me and said in an annoyed tone, his blue eyes now cobalt, "Not for you, there isn't."

I sighed and lowered my head, trying to get a grip. He just didn't get it. I looked back up, fighting tears. "Ranger and I have a … baby. Almost four months old. His name is Giancarlo and he's real. We know it from the pictures. He looks like Ranger—" I broke off and shook my head. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I had a child. "That bastard has him, Walker. He did everything he could to control me. He took the baby away from me, controlled my days, and forced me into a sort of slavery. He was hateful enough to hurt me. And he hated Carlo."

He didn't respond and I jumped up to grab the front of his shirt, giving him a shake. "An innocent baby. I can't just sit around and talk about my feelings, la di da, and sigh over the tragedy. I have to _do_ something. I'm a doer, Walker. I react, I jump in, I fight. I need you to help me fight, please, just think—"

"Shh." Walker reached up and grabbed my shoulders to set me back so he could stand. I pushed myself to my feet and crossed my arms, waiting for him to make up his mind. He studied me, hands in his pockets, silent, for several minutes. Then he said, "I have a few technically non-existent drugs I have used in the past when we needed information quickly. They work, but getting the dose right is tricky."

I nodded and waited for him to explain.

He looked me directly in the eyes with grave sincerity. "Remember when I said it could produce no new leads?" I nodded. "Well, the drugs can make things worse, much worse. We could end up not getting the memories at all _and_ losing you in the process. You might get lost somewhere between the two personalities. I've seen both successes and failures first-hand using these drugs. It's a huge risk."

It was a scary prospect, but I knew I had to take the chance. "I'm not afraid. I know I'll make it and I'm ready to try."

His face grew stern. "I want Ranger involved with this decision. He has a stake in this, too."

Part of me wanted to keep him out of it, but I knew I'd hate it if he'd done that to me. I had to agree that Walker was right. Damn him. "Fine. I'll get him."

We brought Ranger in and explained what we—I—wanted to do. He stared at me with what would have been his blank look, if it weren't for the fear in his eyes.

"Absolutely not."

"Ranger! We don't have time to pussyfoot around this thing. I want to do it."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I said no." He turned his cold stare to Walker. "And I mean no."

White hot anger flashed through me. "And I say you can't stop me."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Let Walker—"

"What? Work his EMDR voodoo and hope that it works? We don't have time for this. Think about it."

He took a step closer to me. The man wasn't much taller than me, but in that moment, he seemed to tower over me, his irate posture making him larger than life. "Stephanie, I am thinking about it. You heard him. It could destroy you. You're asking me to choose between a child I've never met or losing _you_. I will not lose you again."

"I don't even know what to do with that response. Are you saying I should sacrifice _him _for myself? What would that make me?"

"No. I'm saying the risk is too high to take a chance with no promises or guarantees that it will help." Ranger folded his arms across his chest and stood even straighter.

Defiance reared its ugly head and took over my mouth. "I will do this! I didn't want to lie to you about it, I could have, but I didn't."

If I were to describe expression on his face, I'd say he winced. It's hard to tell with Ranger, but his eyes flickered and his head made a minuscule motion to the side. He turned around and left the room; his slamming of the door resounded like the boom of a large firework through my body. He'd left. Again.

I took a step to follow him and Walker put a hand on my arm. "Don't. Stephanie, this isn't worth it. I'm not sure he can handle this or that you're even ready for it."

I whirled on him. "Don't you dare back out now, Walker. You agreed."

"I said Ranger had to be on board."

Jaw clenched, I took several breaths through my nose. I could feel my nostrils flare with each one. "Tell me, how long does this other technique usually take?"

He slid his hands into his pockets and looked a little uncomfortable. "It depends."

"How long?"

"If you're receptive to the treatment, it could take a few sessions to see any real results, so in your case, maybe a week."

I crossed my arms and dropped my head back, staring at the ceiling. When I lowered my gaze to him, I looked straight into his eyes. "And if not?"

His voice so quiet I almost didn't hear him, he said, "Months."

"Months." I paced to the bathroom door and back. "Fuck no."

Walker looked at the door Ranger had exited through. I could almost hear his brain ticking through the ifs, ands, and buts. Slowly, he turned his head back to me with a look of resignation on his face. "I'll talk to him."

"You'll do the treatment I want."

He sighed. "Against my better judgment, yes. With a child's welfare at stake, I feel compelled to agree. But we're starting slow."

I looked at the door now. Ranger was going to have to be okay with it. I hated that it scared him, but I had more than just him or myself to consider now. Maybe I had that mothering instinct after all because I was willing to risk everything for this kid.

…

When we rejoined the guys in the living area, Ranger was gone and Tank and Lester were angry. I didn't ask in case Ranger filled them in on my decision. I had no desire to defend my position to two more people. What's done was done. Or would be done soon.

Tank sat on the couch and leaned back, head tilted to rest on top of the cushions. "Our flight for Rome leaves in four hours. Better pack."

"When did all this happen?"

Lester spoke up from where he leaned against the armchair. "Sorry, Blue. We knew we needed to head to Rome this evening, but with all the _activity _we didn't have a chance to tell you. Ranger's contact, Spitz, has more information than just those surveillance shots, but will only talk to us in person. Meeting's arranged for tomorrow morning."

"That's the guy that sent the photos?"

Tank nodded. "Ranger's known him a long time. One of the first people he called when you disappeared last year. We called him after you started asking for Marotta, he's currently undercover in Marotta's organization."

I absorbed this information and then put my hands on my hips. "So, he's in Rome?" They both nodded. "And he sent pictures of me?" More nods. "So, if he's working for Marotta, he would know who Camila is."

"That's what we're going to find out, Sweetness."

"Ranger's a helluva lot pissed off about it, too," Lester said.

'Among other things,' I thought. "Okay. Guess I should pack."

I went to the bedroom and stood beside the bed, staring at it for almost five minutes. It held me in a trance. Ranger's rejection of the treatment, and ultimately removing his support, haunted me. I had to believe we'd get through it, but also knew it'd take some time. It was difficult to believe we'd woken in that bed only yesterday, happy and connected. I'd ruined it.

But I wouldn't back down. Not when it was so important.

…

Four hours later, I thought it was ironic that I was finally leaving France, but Stephanie Plum still couldn't go anywhere. Because Stephanie Plum was still dead.

The name on my passport held my attention. My mouth quirked at the name twist. Ranger knew I wouldn't miss the significance and that knowledge gave me a small dose of happy. His daughter, Julie, didn't bear his last name, but in some small way, Ranger had just given it to her. Officially, I would be Giuliana Ramoso for travel purposes in Europe and for our return flight to the US, whenever that happened. I wondered if I could ever be the real 'me' again.

My gaze flicked to the man standing still as granite across the room, staring out the window while he talked on his phone, lips barely moving. He had been cold since our disagreement over my treatment. I got that it scared him, but why couldn't he get that I had to do it this way? The only interaction we'd had since then was when he gave me the passport. He told me not to lose it and then walked away. I really felt like beaning him in the back of the head with it, but I tucked it into my brand new purse.

Sometime between the argument and leaving for the airport, Ranger had changed clothes and now looked more like the man I knew in Trenton. Second skin black t-shirt, black cargos, black boots, black sunglasses … blank look. I'd known it before, but had never really connected it in my brain that the blank expression was part of his badass uniform. When he had to be in control and focused, he shed emotion and became an impenetrable fortress. Until this week, he hadn't customarily directed it at me and almost never wore it in private since we started dating. Even if he had, it quickly fell away. Now, it seemed like a frequent visitor.

Lester's elbow nudged me, intermittently snapping me out of my thoughts. He was playing some military war game on a PSP. Sometimes his nudges were hard and I thought there was a bruise forming on my ribs, so I decided to get a cup of coffee for a short reprieve. I didn't need any more bruises today, emotional or otherwise.

"Les, I'm going to get a cup of coffee."

He hit a button and looked at me. "Okay, let's go."

I smiled. "Don't worry about it. Look, the café is right there." I pointed across the aisle and down a little ways. It was in plain sight from our seats. "You can watch me. Besides, you have some bad guys to shoot." His eyes flicked toward Ranger, a dark look on his face. "That's not a bad guy." He snorted and I placed my hand on his forearm. "Five minutes. One cup of coffee. A to-go cup. Play your game, I'll be fine."

A devious spark flared up in his eyes. "Go ahead, Blue Eyes. I'll cover for you, but I'm watching you. Not even a bathroom stop."

The defiant look in his eye bothered me, but I stood anyway. "Got it. Thanks."

I scanned the gate's seating area and saw Tank still talking to the Gate Agent, his forehead wrinkled in frustration. Walker was in a secluded corner speaking in a hushed tone with his phone to his ear. He didn't look happy and I wondered what Ranger had torn him away from to bring him here for me. I wondered why he'd come.

Ranger's back was to me, so I hurriedly left while the coast was clear. No doubt if Walker or Tank saw me leaving, they'd say something, too. I wanted five minutes without a babysitter holding my hand, without the tension of Ranger's standoff, and to pretend that my world was happy and carefree. Okay, so that wasn't really possible. There was no way I could pretend anything was happy and carefree, but at least I could act normal.

While standing in line at the little café, an alarm went off on one of the grills and a flame shot up. The beep seemed to settle into my bones and I couldn't shake it off. As soon as I heard it, a brutal headache exploded behind my eyes and I pressed the heels of my hands to them, taking slow, deep breaths. The pain began to dissipate as quickly as it came on, but at the same time, I felt a shroud come over me, as if my very being had just been coated with a thick layer of tar.

I turned back toward Lester, but panicked when I couldn't see anything but blurry colors all mashed together. Someone stopped to put a hand on my arm, speaking in soft tones I couldn't understand. I jumped away from the contact because the touch burned me as if the person was electrified. The oppressive veil acted as a conductor for this energy and I physically felt the shockwaves inside me now. They advanced from the base of my brain, through my head and all the way out to my fingers and toes, lighting up every nerve path.

When the sensation passed, I felt numb. My energy was gone and I crumpled down to my knees and then to my side on the rough, navy industrial carpet. So much for acting normal. I was nothing but a shell, a useless weight … a burden. Another jolt shot through me then, so strong, so _potent, _that I gasped and shivered. Where it came from, I didn't know and I was too consumed by the sensation to analyze it. The last thing I saw was the flame, unfocused, dancing in my line of vision.

…

_Adriano arrived home this morning in a surprisingly good mood. "Good afternoon, my wife."_

_I shuddered inwardly and smiled at him. He'd taken to calling me that lately, as if to remind me who I belonged to. I didn't need another reminder. I had reminders all over my body._

"_Good afternoon, husband." Better to play along. Adriano had gone above and beyond simple name calling and criticism this week. The physical violence I'd endured had left me marked up and sore. I knew he resented me, but the hatred he'd shown made me afraid and I didn't want to do anything to set him off. My continued visits with Carlo depended on his happiness._

"_Are you ready to go?"_

"_Yes."_

_We left for our run and I kept pace with Adriano despite the fact that he was running faster than normal. "You're doing excellent today, Camila," he huffed. He'd been pushing us for the last two kilometers and it wasn't surprising that he was out of breath. I knew he was trying to make me fall behind or fail in some way. More and more, he did whatever he could to make sure he got to harm me. It sickened me the way it made him so happy and almost … alive in some way._

"_Thank you," I said on an exhale._

_My heartbeat picked up when I realized we were only a couple of turns away from Carlo's home. I fought off trying to run ahead because Adriano would get angry and I now hoped he would allow me to see my son on this trip._

_As if he sensed my thoughts, Adriano pointed ahead and asked, "Do you want to stop in at the house?"_

"_Yes, I think that would be fine," I said calmly. Fine was an understatement. I hadn't seen Carlo in two days, which had only been the second time I'd seen him since Adriano had moved him last week. Adriano's mood swings were unpredictable, at best. I did whatever I could to keep him calm and rational, but sometimes there was no method to his madness._

_We'd been married for nearly six months and no two days were the same. I never knew if something would make him happy one day and then angry the next. If I'd known what type of man he was, if I'd taken more time to get to know him, I never would have married him. One month wasn't long enough to know someone and I knew now the grave mistake I'd made. Perhaps, if I'd just been firmer with Seppe about the wedding date, I would have had the chance to choose Luca instead._

_The affair with Luca hadn't been planned, it had just happened. We'd started out as friends, but became fonder of each other as each week passed. He listened to me when I talked and held me when I cried. He'd been the only person I could be myself with and, when our hugs turned into kisses and our kisses turned into undeniable passion, the only person who could bring out the woman I was inside. That I loved him was an understatement. He'd become my lifeline. I needed him._

_That night, I'd become so lost in how good it felt to have someone holding me, loving me that I hadn't stopped to let myself think of what could happen if Adriano found out. It didn't surprise me that he reacted badly. I was his wife and I had no right breaking my vows. Now that it was done, I couldn't focus on any regrets. If I could go back and change my actions, no matter how much I loved Luca, I'd never jeopardize time with my child to be with him. The memory only served as a bitter reminder of all I'd lost._

_Even worse, he had not attempted to contact me even once since that night. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd only wanted to have that one night with me and if he'd planned to walk away after. Bile rose up to my throat until I wanted to spit. He'd gotten what he wanted and left me to pick up the ruins of my life after._

_I shook my head and concentrated on the road. We were almost there. Almost there. Almost there. The words pounded through my head in rhythm with my feet on the road. As we rounded the last corner, I kept my lips together and worked to maintain a neutral expression. I didn't want Adriano to see how much this meant to me. The house was in view and I took slow, even breaths to contain my excitement. It was so good to be here, so good to think of holding my baby._

_The thought froze in my mind when I heard the boom. I was confused about where it came from until the house burst into flames. From top to bottom, it was instantly engulfed._

"_No!" The word ripped from my throat through my disbelief. I must be dreaming, this couldn't be real. But the house was on fire, everything in sight had hissing orange flames dancing and destroying. I lurched forward, desperate to grab Carlo from the inferno. "Please, God, no!" I screamed._

_Adriano grabbed me around the waist. "You can't do anything, Camila. What are you going to do, run inside and burn to death?"_

_Yes. That's exactly what I'd rather do than spend even a second knowing I'd watched that house burn with my child, the only person left in my world who loved me unconditionally, inside it._

_He kept his arm around my waist and pulled out his mobile phone, calling emergency services. I sank to my knees to break his hold and then started crawling toward the house, trying to claw my way forward when Adriano grabbed my arm and wouldn't let me advance. Rage, fierce and potent, consumed me and I turned on him, getting to my feet, and swinging wildly at him._

"_You! This is your doing!"_

_Annoyed, he held my wrists in his hands so I couldn't hit him and stared at the house, an angry expression on his face. He could fool many people, but not me. "What are you talking about?" he asked._

_In a maneuver that came from somewhere inside me, I broke his grip and ripped my hands free, grabbing the front of his t-shirt. I wanted to tear him apart. "You hated him, from the moment he was born. You did this. It wasn't enough for you to steal everything from me. You had to take him away, too. He's a child, for God's sake, Adriano!"_

"_Watch your mouth, whore," he said and smacked my hands away as if they were nothing more than pesky flies. _

_I couldn't explain the feeling that came over me in that moment, but all hell broke loose. I launched myself at him, clawing at his face, growling. I sounded more like an angry animal than a woman. "I hate you. I hate you! I married you so my son would have a father, but you couldn't even do that one thing right! And Luca? He's _twice _the man you could ever hope to be. Of course I love him, why wouldn't I when no one else owned my heart?"_

_A punch, swift and strong, connected with my jaw and knocked me a few feet back from him, landing me on my back. When I opened my eyes, Adriano stood over me with hatred and murder in his eyes. "Don't. _EVER._ talk to me that way."_

_He pulled me to my feet by my hair. I was too angry, too enraged to feel it. The pain was easier than the despair. I had to focus on hurting Adriano, getting away from him so I could help my son. If I gave up now, it would destroy me and I couldn't let him win. "Let go of me!"_

_Instead, he dragged me the few feet up to the driveway to where Maria's car still sat, unscathed, the dancing flames from the house mirrored on the polished hood. Carlo's infant carrier was still buckled into the back seat. Oh my God, my baby … my baby. I was alone, I didn't want to be alone. There was no one left for me, no one who cared what happened to me. Not Luca, not even Seppe._

_Adriano reached under the wheel well and pulled out a magnetic box with a key inside. He unlocked the car and shoved me in the back. I tried to open the doors, but the child safety locks had been engaged and the doors wouldn't open. Before I could jump to the front, Adriano climbed in and started the car._

"_You'll never see the light of day again, Camila."_

_His words should have made me fight harder, but they left me numb. Maybe he'd really kill me and the struggle, the pain, would be over. I should have been worried that I'd lost my will to try to survive, but I knew deep in my heart that Carlo had been the only reason I hadn't given up hope. Without him, I was trapped in hell._

_The drive back to our house was short and quiet. I watched the scenery whip by the window and counted the trees, trying not to think of how my child suffered at this moment. How I couldn't go to him or help him. I didn't want to think or feel. I was empty and would never be full again. It no longer mattered what Adriano did, I was already dead._

_Once we reached the house, he yanked me from the car and shoved me inside, dragging me to the bedroom by the arm and throwing me onto the bed. "Strip!" he yelled. I just laid there. His hands grabbed me, yanking me off the bed. He ripped the clothes from my body and shoved me back onto it facedown. Then he walked away for a minute and I heard dresser drawers being opened wildly. Suddenly he was securing me to the four corners of the bed with my own stockings. He left the room after that and I heard the front door slam._

_Morning turned to afternoon and afternoon turned to evening. I slept brokenly all night, afraid he'd show up when I wasn't prepared. Early the next morning, the rising sun woke me up. Not long after that, I heard the front door bang shut. He'd returned._

_I struggled against panic as his footsteps clicked closer and closer to the room, then he was here. He dropped something onto the bed at my feet. It landed with a soft thud and I wondered what it could be. "I knew I'd have to use this on you one day, Camila," he said. Was it a gun? A really big object he could use to bash in my skull? A sword? The possibilities were endless when it came to Adriano._

_I heard it right before I felt it. A whip. The telltale 'whippow' rent through the air like the sound of trumpets to me and I froze, and then cried out when I felt the leather sear my skin._

_Time had no meaning for me, but was measured in strokes of pain. My face was soaked with sweat and tears. I was exhausted with barely the energy it took to drag air into my lungs._

_The stockings Adriano had grabbed from my wardrobe were tied tightly enough to bite into my wrists and ankles, making my hands and feet go numb. He got down on one knee next to the edge of the bed. His clothes were soaked with sweat from exertion. He lowered himself until his eyes were level with mine. "Tell me that you don't hate me."_

"_I don't hate you," I whispered. "To hate you, I'd have to care."_

_He snarled and stood up again. I struggled against the restraints on my wrists and ankles, but couldn't go anywhere to escape what was coming. I heard the whip fly back and then slice through the air before he hit his target and I screamed._

…

"Easy, I think she's coming out of it," Walker said in a quiet tone. I felt cool fingers grip my wrist in the standard pulse check position and then the relief of a cool cloth against my face, patting away the moisture on my forehead and down my neck. I hated that the dreams made me pass out, but at least I didn't wake up thinking I was Camila anymore.

I swallowed against the fire in my throat and gave a mental head shake. My throat hadn't hurt before the dream, had I screamed in my sleep? My eyes fluttered open cautiously. There were no windows near me and it was relatively dark and peaceful.

Walker was seated on the edge of the low cot where I'd been placed, checking me over. His hands had administered the cool cloth to my heated skin; he still held it in one of them, gently dabbing at my neck. Yuck, I'd really been sweating, too.

I tried to groan, but only a squeak came out from my raw throat. I swallowed again and croaked, "Water."

Walker looked up at someone behind me and said, "Help her sit up." Strong, warm arms slid beneath my shoulders and tilted me upward, then a firm body sank onto the cot behind me and provided a support for me to lean against. Ranger. The Bvlgari wafted to my nostrils and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against his chest. Walker produced a Styrofoam cup with a lid and straw. "Here. Small sips."

The straw was against my lips now. I took a minuscule swallow and my parched throat eagerly accepted the cool liquid. Greedily, I took a big gulp and looked around. We were in a small room. The cot was against a wall with a small metal stand beside it. There was a short walkway between it and a painted metal door with a window in it. There were curtains mounted on metal frames at the head and foot of the bed but it wasn't a hospital.

"Careful, Stephanie. We want to make sure you won't be sick."

I waved him off and took another swallow. I needed the water. My throat burned and felt as if I swallowed glass shards, causing me to cough and sputter. The cup fell out of my hands onto the floor and the lid popped off, spilling the water across the smooth linoleum.

Ranger patted my back and Walker stood. "I'll get some more water and a towel."

I swiveled around to face Ranger and saw the concern in his eyes. "This was a bad one," he said.

The dream! Emotion rushed up with the force of a volcano and I curved my lips inward, pressing them tightly together with my teeth, and lowered my eyes so he wouldn't see the tears fill them. I breathed in through my nose and when I was sure I could speak, I said, "Adriano wasn't the biggest problem." Though, I now knew why he'd resorted to using a whip on me, that was something to file away to think about later.

His hand tightened on mine and he tugged gently, a simple request for me to look up. When I did, I saw tenderness and something more, something deeper, in his eyes. "Tell me."

I lost the battle to the grief then, and tears flooded out, streaming down my cheeks. I lowered my head and pressed my hand over my mouth, fighting for control again. The knowledge that Carlo was real had finally bypassed my denial sometime when I wasn't paying attention. Somehow, I'd come to accept who he was, and I'd become protective and determined. Maybe it was the connection I felt with the woman I'd been back then, I couldn't be certain, but the grief was as real to me as it had been to her.

Bitter pain over the loss consumed me. "He's gone," I choked out over a sob I was trying to restrain.

Ranger let go of my hand and closed both of his over my shoulders. Strength. He always had so much strength. Body, will, mind. None of it could help me right now. None of it could save our son. "Gone? Who?"

I took a deep breath in through my nose and held it, swallowing a few times. Then I raised my head and said, "Carlo."

"What do you mean?"

"His house, I mean, the house where Adriano kept him with his nanny. We went for a run and decided to stop by and see him." Ranger's fingers tightened and he looked wary.

I gulped and blinked a few times, focusing on the current problem. "When we got there, it exploded. He's gone, Ranger."

I was undone. Telling him made it all too real and I lowered my head. He pulled me against his chest and I pressed my face to it, feeling his heart hammering beneath my cheek, his arms like metal bands around my torso, and his body trembling. From rage or sadness, I couldn't tell. I was crushed by the horror of losing a child before ever meeting him, whether or not I'd wanted one.


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: There is a SMUT warning for this chapter._

…

From Chapter 15:

_I gulped and blinked a few times, focusing on the current problem. "When we got there, it exploded. He's gone, Ranger."_

_I was undone. Telling him made it all too real and I lowered my head. He pulled me against his chest and I pressed my face to it, feeling his heart hammering beneath my cheek, his arms like metal bands around my torso, and his body trembling. From rage or sadness, I couldn't tell. I was crushed by the horror of losing a child before ever meeting him, whether or not I'd wanted one._

…

Chapter 16

Ranger kissed the top of my head and said, "We don't know what happened. We're not giving up until we know for sure." I clutched at him and nodded, trying not to get fluids from my crying session all over his shirt. What he said made sense. After all, he'd thought I was dead. Even buried me, yet here I was. Alive. _Alive_.

"Okay," I said. "I know you're upset with me, but I need you to just be like this, with me, for right now." Ranger tightened his hold and slid his hand beneath my hair to hold my head to his shoulder and massage my scalp.

"Babe," he said and slid his other arm around my waist. "I'm bad with emotions, especially mine. I didn't handle our argument well." I started to speak and he squeezed his hands inward to silence me. "I'm sorry I walked out on our discussion. It won't happen again."

I smiled despite everything and raised my head to look at him when I said, "It might, but even if it does I'll forgive you." He gave me a strange look and I shook my head slightly. "I don't expect perfection from you. Just your love and honesty. We can work through anything else."

His arms encircled me and we held each other tight for a few minutes, then I felt his arms tense just the slightest bit. He said, "We _will _get him."

Walker, Lester, and Tank came into the room right then and Ranger asked, "Flight?"

"An hour," Tank said.

"Flight?" I asked and sat up, looking at Ranger. "We didn't miss it?"

He reached up and caressed my cheek with his hand, his other at my lower back, pulling me against him. "We changed to a later flight." With a glance at Walker, he asked, "Everything all set?"

Walker nodded. "I convinced them she's fit to fly under my care, she just has to sign some release forms and get a final exam." His eyes flicked to me and then Ranger. "Any new leads?"

Ranger went completely still and said, "Not now." Walker nodded once and Ranger said, "We need to get those forms signed."

"Okay, I'm ready." I wiped my eyes and sat up, determined to get to Rome and get my fucking life back. And more, God willing.

Lester said, "Good. You have some ass kicking to do. As long as you save some asses for me."

I nodded once. "Yes, but one of them is all mine." The last time I felt this cold and vengeful was when Kenny Mancuso had stabbed Grandma Mazur in the hand. The thought of Grandma made me sad, but I fought it off and focused on my anger. Those who preyed on the defenseless made my blood boil.

Ranger pressed me close and his lips moved to my ear. "As long as I'm there, I'll let you do anything you want." I didn't want to examine his promise too closely. I wasn't sure if he realized how close to murder I felt at the moment.

I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and moved my lips to his ear. "You sure?"

I felt his smile against my jaw. His voice was a little rough when he said, "Trust me, I look forward to it."

After the argument and silence between us, the relief I felt strengthened my resolve. He hadn't said whether or not he'd changed his mind, but it no longer mattered. We were, and always would be, a team. That much was clear.

I pushed myself away from him after a quick kiss.

"We're ready," Ranger said and pushed me up to my feet with his hand at my waist as he stood, then wrapped his arm around me, keeping me close to him.

I had to focus. Carlo. We were going to Italy for him. For me. We were going to get Adriano. And if we were lucky, we'd figure out how and why my life was turned upside down. A fire sped through my veins: the fire of justice, the need to make things right.

…

I stared out the window of the airplane as we taxied to the gate in Rome. I barely recalled boarding the plane. It seemed like one minute I was signing papers, the next we were on the plane ready for takeoff. Once airborne, Walker, Ranger, and I talked about my dream. I told them everything I remembered and mentioned the alarm and the response it triggered. "This flashback wasn't like the others. I didn't just drift off; I felt like I was being thrown into an electric fence."

Walker had pondered that for a minute and said, "It could possibly have something to do with the method used to erase your memories."

"Great, so I'm going to have to avoid alarms for the rest of my life? Can you reverse it?"

He shrugged slightly. "Hopefully. But unless we can locate those who were directly involved, we won't get answers."

"Then we'll find them."

No one had argued with me.

Now, fatigued from the events of the past couple of days, my eyes drooped and Ranger lightly brushed the top of my thigh with his fingertips.

"If you fall asleep, you'll miss the scenery on the way to the hotel."

"What scenery? It's dark out. It must be after nine already."

"It's 9:30. And the lights in the city are pretty impressive."

I snorted. The only scenery I was interested in viewing right now was the beaten and bloodied body of Adriano. Seeing my look, Ranger leaned over and kissed me. "Babe." He knew me so well.

Lester retrieved my small suitcase from the overhead bins and waved me off when I tried to take it. Then he started down the aisle carrying his own small duffle plus my suitcase. Walker was back a few rows having already pulled down the guys' bags from the bins. He looked like he was waiting for something. Ranger tugged me up from my seat and led me down the aisle, arm back holding my hand, and Tank followed closely behind me with Walker on his heels carrying the other three duffle bags. I quickly realized that I was under guard and decided not to complain. We didn't know who had been a part of whatever scheme it was that ripped me from my life in Trenton and chances were good that it was someone in Italy.

There were so many questions it made my head spin. Who was Adriano? Who was Seppe Marotta to me? A father figure or an enemy disguised as a friend? Who was he to the rest of the world and why were the guys so tense about my description of our relationship? How did he fit in with Adriano? And why, if he cared about me, _why _had he wanted me with someone like Adriano? Most importantly was the question over who had motive to ruin my life. That one bothered me the most.

Since the meeting with this Spitz character loomed ahead of us, as well as the promise of answers, my fatigue suddenly turned to nervous anticipation. I gripped Ranger's hand tighter as we walked through the terminal to the rental car station. Tank had made the arrangements so he handled the transaction.

In Trenton, though he gave the men assignments often enough, Ranger always handled his own personal business. It was odd to see him step back and hand the reins over to someone else. I realized right away that he had assigned himself to be my own personal bodyguard this time. No Merry Men guarding Stephanie Plum. No, I got Batman himself. It was something he'd never done before when I was in trouble and spoke volumes for how affected he was by everything that had happened to me and, subsequently, to him.

The car Tank rented was spacious for four adults my size. Cramming into the backseat with Ranger and Lester proved how small it really was. They're both trim enough to sit easily in narrow seats, but their muscular bulk and long legs took up all the extra room. Tank and Walker towered in the front seats, their heads nearly touching the ceiling.

The traffic in this city was as terrifying as traffic in Paris. Cars honked, people gestured rudely to each other, and cars screeched to a halt at odd angles in the street where they attempted to go around anyone and anything in their way. The cars left _no _space between each other and I was terrified that Tank would crash into the car in front of us, or worse, that the huge truck behind us would run us over. Tank expertly maneuvered the streets, though, and I was impressed.

Ranger must have noticed the nervous glances I cast at a few cars who'd gotten close enough for me to see hangnails when the drivers flipped us off because his chest rumbled in a low chuckle. "If you think this is bad, I should take you to India sometime."

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. "No! We're never going there. Please tell me you don't drive there? I've seen that traffic in movies."

"Not even I am brave enough to attempt driving in that mess. I usually hire a driver. A good one."

"Still not interested," I said. "If I want hot weather, I'll find hot weather with a beach." He pressed his lips to the top of my head and I could feel the smile on them.

The hotel was beautiful. Audacious, but beautiful. The furnishings were all aged bronze, creamy marble, rich dark woods, thick patterned carpets, crystal chandeliers, frosted sconces, and leather furniture. The gilded wood on the ceiling in the lobby captured my attention immediately. In the center was a large chandelier. It was like walking into a palace and I felt completely out of place in my jeans and black t-shirt. My only saving grace was that I was wearing a pair of Marc Jacobs sandals that had magically appeared with my luggage in Paris. They made me feel not _quite _so ratty, even with my travel-mussed curls.

Lester handed Ranger my small suitcase and his duffle. "We going to meet for dinner and go over plans for tomorrow?"

"No," Ranger said. "You three are going to meet for dinner and go over tomorrow's plan of action. Tell me what you decided tomorrow morning at breakfast." He turned around and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the elevators.

My eyes swept over the cast iron gates we passed through on our way into the ornate elevator. I was almost uncomfortable in all of this glitz and glamor. Give me a normal Marriott any day.

When we got to our room, he unlocked it with the key card and pulled me in behind him, shutting the door and flipping the security lever over the hook on the door. He dropped our luggage on the floor and tossed the key card onto an end table.

I looked around the room and noticed that there was a late meal waiting for us on a serving cart beside the small dining table in the living area. It'd been a long time since the sandwich I'd downed after my 'incident' at the airport. I looked at Ranger and, without looking at me, he said, "Tank." Bless the big-hearted romantic. He'd known what I needed, what Ranger needed.

We walked to the table and sat down. I wasn't all that interested in food, but knew I needed to eat or I'd be up in the middle of the night starving. The meal was some chicken dish with pasta and a mushroom sauce. I didn't know what it was called or if it tasted good. I had too much to think about and not enough happy to consider denial and, really, denial wouldn't work for me. Not in this instance. Nothing could make me forget what I'd lost.

Ranger wasn't talking, but it was different than his normal 'I don't have anything to say' brand of silence. He was brooding, staring off into the room at nothing. He ate mechanically, fork to mouth, knife cutting meat, drink of wine.

A little desperate for some noise, I asked, "So, how do you know this Spitz guy? The guys told me he's undercover in Marotta's organization."

He blinked and looked at me as if noticing me for the first time since we sat down. "His unit and mine worked together on a big mission. We've worked together a lot over the years."

"He's American?"

"Italian."

Okay. "So, is Spitz a call sign like 'Ranger' or is that his real name?"

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back with his glass of wine in hand. "Name's Marco Spitzano."

"So, what kind of undercover work is he doing? I mean, what is he trying to find?"

Ranger eyed me for a few seconds and gave a small shake of his head. "He doesn't share information."

"Doesn't or can't?"

"It becomes the same thing." I rolled my eyes and pushed my plate away. "You finished?"

"Yeah."

Ranger stood and took my hand, pulling me into his arms. We stood like that for a long time, hugging and breathing. Finally, he said what I knew had been on his mind during dinner. "I wanted you both."

Just like that, I was crying again. "I know."

"I wouldn't willingly sacrifice him. He's my son, how could I? But I can't say I feel the same connection as you."

I didn't even understand the connection I felt myself. "We don't know that he's gone. I still want to try the drug therapy."

"I get it. Don't expect me to like it."

I nodded.

We gazed at each other for a long time and then he leaned toward me and kissed my forehead, my eyes, then kissed away my tears, the corners of my mouth, and finally my mouth. Every kiss was whisper light, but they affected me exactly the opposite. The love they expressed settled over me like a blanket on a wintry day, warm and soothing.

He broke the kiss and rubbed his lightly stubbled cheek against mine and then trailed his lips along my jaw and kissed my chin. Then he bent down and lifted me into his arms and carried me slowly into the bedroom, never taking his eyes off mine, lowering me to the bed gently, and coming down to rest beside me on his side.

Deliberately, with his eyes watching the movement, he lightly stroked his hand down my chest between my breasts until his fingers reached the hem of my t-shirt. He slid his hand underneath and stroked them around my belly button and then back up, stopping just short of my breasts and splaying his fingers out over my rib cage.

Everything inside me tightened at once; my nipples, stomach, pelvis, and my lower back. Sensual tingles hummed in my blood, intensifying with each beat of my heart, until my breathing turned labored and a little raspy.

He always knew exactly how to get to me, how to turn me on and make me desperate: make me wait. When he finally decided I'd had enough anticipation to make me crawl out of my skin, he leaned down and gently bit one of my hard peaks through my t-shirt and the thin padding of my bra. I gasped and arched my back, but he let go and pulled away.

I sank down onto the bed with a hard sigh and felt the fluttering twinges of need racing to my center and squirmed slightly.

Slowly, he raised my t-shirt up and over my chest and pulled the cups of my bra down beneath my breasts, pushing them up. The cold air puckered my nipples more and he leaned down to lick one, then the other, then blew on them. I moaned and pumped my hips upward once in response and he repeated the action. My hand went to his shoulder and the fingers dug into his flesh.

He responded by raising himself onto his knees and crawling over me, anchoring his hips on the bed between my legs, hands wrapped around my sides under my arms. He lifted my chest and bent his head to trace and tease my nipples with his tongue. My hands went to his hair and I tried with all my might to pull him closer, but he held me firm with his hands and wouldn't allow me to move.

The torture didn't last long, though, because he had mercy on me and began to draw them into his mouth, stroking and circling with his tongue, using pressure from his mouth to compress and stretch them out. Somehow he worked my shirt and bra off me, as well as his shirt, but I had no idea when or how he'd done it.

I had no control over my vocal chords or any noise they produced. My emotions were strung high and tears of relief, mingled with love and grief, leaked from the corners of my eyes and down my temples into my hair.

He stopped, lifting his head and placing one last kiss on my nipple before he got up and left the bed. I sighed in frustration when he left the room. What the…? He came back seconds later with our luggage and unzipped his duffle, pulling out a box from inside. When he returned to the bed, he tossed the box onto the nightstand and I understood. Condoms. Because we weren't protected anymore. I was both grateful and disappointed. Shit, it'd take some getting used to. Still, condom sex was better than no sex.

The sight of Ranger removing his cargos distracted me and I watched, mesmerized as the black material revealed his creamy light brown skin and my favorite part of his anatomy. My mouth watered and I leaned over to kiss the tip, drawing a hiss from him.

He gently pushed me back and climbed onto the bed, resuming his previous position. He trailed his mouth down my body to the waistband of my jeans and unsnapped them, inching them down with his hands, following the progress with his mouth, until they were off and I lay before him in only my pale blue lacy panties and my evaporating tears.

With agonizing slowness, eyes holding mine, he lowered his head and touched his tongue to my clit through the thin silk. I forced myself not to close my eyes and tilt my head back, but to watch him because I knew he wanted it. From past experience, I knew he'd stop if I closed my eyes and I didn't want him to stop.

His mouth opened wider and his tongue stroked the length of my sex, ending with a small wiggle on my clit that sent a rush of heat through my entire body. He closed his mouth over the cleft and massaged the nub firmly with his tongue, making my muscles contract and my hips flex.

Just when it was feeling really good, he stopped and slowly inched the soaked panties off me. I groaned and gripped the thick comforter in my hands, teeth clenched together. God, I was going insane! He moved back up to kiss me and reached over, grabbed a packet from the box, and ripped it open. I took it from him and reached down between our bodies to circle my hand around him, sliding it up and over the tip, squeezing, then back down before rolling the condom on.

His breathing had increased and I could see the pulse hammering in his neck, eyes intense, jaw tight. Raising my legs, Ranger lowered himself until he was poised over me. I gave a light moan and he went still. He held my gaze as he inched his way inside, making me squirm for more. He moved slowly, deeper and deeper, until we were pressed together hip to hip. His muscles twitched to continue, but he remained still, staring into my eyes.

"Stephanie," he whispered.

"Yeah?" I whispered back.

"I love you."

Tears blurred my vision again and slipped over the rims of my eyes. I blinked them away and nodded, gazing solemnly at him. "I love you, too."

"Forever."

"Yes, forever."

He groaned and began to move then, unhurried, as if he wanted to do our declarations justice, consummate them. He was driving me crazy, deliberately taking his time, pushing me up and up and up to the edge again. With an agonizing pace, he stroked, bending down to lightly scrape his teeth over my breasts and nipples, circling them with his tongue, and finally drawing them into his mouth. Back and forth, he moved between each, increasing their sensitivity and my euphoria all at once.

He urged me on, whispering to me, encouraging me, and urging me further and further until I suddenly exploded, crying out and clinging to him as my body moved and rippled beneath his. A few seconds later, I heard his low growl as he, too, climaxed, arms around me, still moving within, drawing out my orgasm as long as possible.

We lay together, spent and breathing, hearts beating rhythms against each other, slowing, calming, settling. His fingers played with my hair and he kissed my shoulder and neck several times before he finally raised his head to look at me.

"What's wrong, Ranger?"

His brow furrowed slightly and he dipped his head down to kiss the hollow of my neck, then the top of each breast. He raised his head again and said, "I thought I would never feel this again; didn't want to look for it." I ran my fingertip softly down between his eyebrows, smoothing out the skin there, but his eyes were still a mixture of happiness and pain. He leaned down to flick his tongue over my nipple and nuzzled his face against the side of my breast.

Then he moved to his side and pulled me with him, arm around my waist, hand cupping my breast. His fingers idly stroked my flesh and his warm breath warmed the skin. We lay like that for a long time, not speaking, just connecting. Somewhere along the way, we fell asleep.

It was after 1:00 am when I woke to the pleasure of his tongue circling my nipple again. This time, he made love to me with a ferocity that would have shocked me if I hadn't been right there with him. After that, he didn't stop there, but kissed his way down my body in a repeat of our first ever sexual encounter following the DeChooch deal, and drawing out an incredibly off-key version of the Hallelujah Chorus from me.

…

"Ready for Rome, babe?" he asked as we stepped out of the shower and began toweling the moisture from our bodies.

"I'm ready to get back to my life, our life." Making up with Ranger dulled my fears back down to the 'strong concern' level. I refused to dwell on what we didn't know about Carlo. Instead, I chose to hope that he could be alive and to be thankful that Ranger and I were a team again. I knew I could do anything, even face my unknown demons, as long as I had him at my side.

We dressed quickly and met the guys next door in Tank's room for breakfast. Lester and Tank looked a little worse for wear and each had slightly blood shot eyes. "Oh no," I said as I took my place between Ranger and Tank at our table, which was full of room service food. "You guys didn't get drunk last night, did you?"

Lester looked up at me with a disgruntled look, his mouth in a grim line. "No. We had rooms next to yours. Did you know that you," he slid his eyes over to Ranger, "both of you, were very loud? All night. I admit, I don't always need a full eight hours, but three is a bit short for me."

Tank nodded in agreement while he dumped half a bottle of ketchup on his eggs.

"Santos, you're walking the line—"

"Can it. Next time we stay in the same hotel, get the penthouse suite so you have zero neighbors." Lester took a large swallow of his juice grabbed the pitcher to refill it.

My face was hot so I knew it was probably red enough to blend in with the red brocade fabric on the back of my chair. I stared at Lester in wide-eyed horror and, when he caught the look on my face, his expression changed and the look in his eyes softened. "Sorry, Blue Eyes. I'm happy the two of you made up – for your sake."

Ranger shot daggers at Lester with his eyes and I put my hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. He relaxed at my touch and proceeded eating his plain fat-free yogurt, berries, and lox on a croissant with Gervais, a soft creamy cheese similar to the cream cheese we were used to back home. He'd also decided to have coffee this morning and I suspected it was because he needed the caffeine boost.

I leaned toward him and murmured, "I love you, but don't be grumpy. They're helping us and they don't have to."

He gave me a slight nod and looked up as Walker entered the room looking well-rested and possibly a bit smug.

"You look like you slept, man," Lester mumbled to him.

"Sure. I knew better than to take a room anywhere near theirs," he cocked his thumb toward Ranger and me. "I took the one that wasn't in our room block." He grinned at the two tired men and then asked, "Did you confirm the meeting with Spitz?"

"Where's the meeting at?" I asked.

"Sent him a text, waiting to hear back," Lester said and flipped Walker off.

Ranger leaned toward me and said, "A little restaurant a few miles away." I nodded at him.

Lester couldn't leave it alone. "You two did sort of sound like a live porn film last night." He winked at me, and Ranger scowled.

Tank's laughter boomed out, startling me mid-pour as I tried to put milk in my cereal. It sloshed over the linen tablecloth and I quickly grabbed my napkin to mop it up. "You'd think these two would be more tired than you, Lester, but maybe it's harder work when you have to do it all yourself?"

Ranger said, "Santos doesn't take long enough to wear himself out."

Lester looked like he wanted to be angry, but burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to hear about any solo X-Rated activities in any of your rooms last night." I picked up my spoon and shoveled a huge bite of cereal into my mouth.

The guys continued to banter, but I got my cereal down in record time and then stood. "I need to do something with this mess," I said, pointing to my hair. "I'll see you in a half hour." I got up to head back to the room and Ranger caught up with me in the hallway.

"You ok?"

"Sorry, I'm just nervous about this meeting for some reason." Maybe it had something to do with the fact that every time I found out something new about Camila, it was horrible? I hugged him and moved my lips to his neck and pressed a soft, tender kiss against his pulse point.

"I'll be right there. Marco can be trusted. If not, I wouldn't have a business relationship with him."

I nodded. It wasn't Marco I was nervous about, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "Well, not that I need you to hold my hand, but I'm glad you'll be there holding my hand."

"Is that all I'm good for?"

"I could think of a few other things." We smiled at each other and he kissed me before I walked into our room to get ready for a day of answers. Hopefully.


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: A few things before you all start reading. First, I know I was going to try to get an extra chapter out this week, but my beta and I didn't have time to get more chapters ready this week. I'm hugely sorry about that, but please trust me when I say that you will thank me for it. I want to keep up the quality you've come to expect in this story and not post shoddy work._

_In addition to that, because my beta is on holiday for two weeks starting tomorrow morning, and also due to the Thanksgiving holiday coming up next week, I will only be able to do two chapters per week for the next **two weeks**, I'm going for Monday and Thursday right now. I will TRY to get more out during that time, but I feel it's best to be up front and say that this is going to mess with my posting schedule. I know, I know! BUT! **I will resume the three times per week posting schedule AFTER Thanksgiving**, though the days I post will change to **Monday, Wednesday, and Friday** since getting a chapter ready for Sunday has been VERY difficult for us. Sorry for this really long note, but I wanted to let you all know what was going on so you didn't worry that this story wouldn't be completed. **It is 100% written**, however, there are always tweaks and checks that need to be done and this is what takes all of our time! This is for your benefit. Trust me, some of these chapters were a mess before my beta touched them. :) _

_Now's a good time to **thank Rach AGAIN** for continually kicking my tush and expecting excellence from me when I want to be lazy. For those of you who love this story, I have to be 100% honest and say that it wouldn't be what it was without her. Not by a LONG shot. She's been instrumental in taking some of my jumbled thoughts and bringing out all the meaning behind them! I'm also going to thank Magdalync for reading this story, pointing out some errors, and offering some suggestions that made me question my motives for the characters — and for just general support, which I appreciate! Thanks to both of you, ladies!_

_So, just remember, there will only be **two chapters this week and next week on Mondays and Thursdays**, then I'll resume three chapters per week again, hopefully to finish before Christmas. I'm VERY sorry about this. You guys are so wonderful that you deserve a chapter every day and I can't pull that off right now. And I refuse to just post a chapter without making sure all the plot points are right and such. You all deserve more than that! _

_Thanks so much for sticking by me. There are only 13 chapters left now! Getting close! That's it. Please enjoy the chapter!_

_**_Story Note: Italian will be depicted by italics since I am not about to Google Translate whole sentences. :)_**  
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…

Chapter 17

Ranger and I were five minutes late meeting the guys down in the hotel lobby. It wasn't my fault! Ranger was the one shoving his tongue down my throat. When we stepped out of the elevator, Tank pointed to his watch.

"Needed to leave five minutes ago. Heard back from Spitz and he confirmed the meeting. It's at that little pub, Baco's, down near Piazza della Repubblica. The one where the, uh, thing went down a few years back?"

Ranger nodded. I didn't bother to ask. Most likely they'd just say they couldn't tell me. "Let's load up."

"I'm not going with you," Lester said.

Ranger stopped and looked at him, not angry, just a questioning look in his eyes.

"Pancetti called me back. Gonna meet him."

"Think it's wise?"

Lester shrugged. "Want the dirt, gotta crawl with the critters."

"Tank, go with him," Ranger said.

Grabbing Ranger's upper arm, Lester said, "I don't need a babysitter, _bro_."

Never taking his eyes from Lester's, Ranger reached up and unwound the fingers from his upper arm. "I'd take him if I went. How many times have you told Stephanie taking backup is smart and nothing to be ashamed of?"

Oh, well, he got him there. I could see Lester would cave. He couldn't be a bad influence to his student, could he? "Fine." He glanced at me and I nodded at him. My way of saying thanks. "Let's roll, Tank."

…

The drive took us half an hour, but it seemed to me that we didn't go very far. The sign for Baco's was small, white, with green and red letters. There was a neon '_aberto_' sign—or 'open' in Italian—in the curtainless window that was on, but half of the gas was missing from the glass tubes. At night, I imagined it would look like shorthand.

A little bell dinged from above the door as we entered the smoky tavern. The place was dimly lit, the brightest of the light being from the two large picture windows at the front. I saw at least three wait staff, a bartender, and heard talking from the kitchen in the back. There were eight patrons scattered throughout and a lone man in the back near the swinging door into the kitchen.

Ranger marched back toward him. He had dark hair that was thick and curled at the ends, a rugged appearance with a thin goatee and five o'clock shadow. He stood as we approached and looked warily at each of us as we approached, but stopped when his eyes hit me.

I stared at him. Holy hell, the man could easily pass for a relative of none other than Joe Morelli. Granted, a slightly taller relative. If Morelli was Super Cop, then Marco was Super Spy. Wow. The guy had to be six foot four. He didn't look_ exactly _like Morelli, but he had the same muscular build, rakish good looks, and unruly hair. If they stood beside each other, it could easily be assumed that they were related. It was uncanny, really.

The man, whom I assumed was Marco Spitzano, looked over at Ranger and, with an outstretched hand, said, "_It's good to see you, my friend._"

Ranger looked guarded as he reached out to take the hand Marco stretched toward him. "_You, too. Thanks for meeting with us._"

"_It was the least I could do_." Marco had his eyes fastened on me and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was the death look I was getting from him. What was his problem?

Ranger slipped his arm around my waist and said, "_This is Stephanie Plum_."

Marco made no move to shake my hand. Instead, he fixed a skeptical eye on me and said, "_Yes, I know. Glad to see she's given up the Camila act._"

I saw red immediately. Ranger had taken a step forward, but I put my hand on his chest and stuck my finger in Marco's face. "_You bastard! You knew who I was and you left me to live in that hellhole? Do you know what Adriano put me through?_"

"_I _am _sorry about that. No one, not even you, deserves to be treated that way._"

My head reared back and I gave him a look of disgust. "_No one like me? Where the hell do you …?_" I looked at Ranger. "_Do you believe this asshole?_" Ranger didn't respond because he was too busy staring at me. Not the normal 'I'm watching out for you' stare, but the 'body still, jaw slack, arms hanging limply at your sides' kind of stare. I turned to Walker and he had a similar expression on his face. "_What is wrong with you two?_"

Ranger blinked and gave a slight shake of his head. "You do realize you're speaking Italian right now?"

Now that someone had spoken English, I did. I didn't know what bothered me most: the fact that I shouldn't be able to understand Italian or the fact that I'd not only understood it, but had also spoken it without even realizing. Thinking about it now, I realized something else. In all of my dreams, everyone had spoken Italian, including me.

I shrugged as if it weren't a big deal, though it really was. Huge, really. "Well, I didn't until now." I could be cool under pressure.

Walker crossed his arms and shook his head slowly from side to side. "Amazing. I've heard of Foreign Accent Syndrome, but gaining a second language? This is definitely one for the books."

Embarrassed, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's Foreign Accent Syndrome?"

"It's a possible side effect to a severe brain injury or stroke." At my look of horror, he raised his hands. "No! You can't gain a new language from a head injury. It had to be intentional."

"Okay," I said. "Well, whatever it is, I think we should just get this show on the road."

"Come on!" Marco exploded. "None of you can be this stupid!"

"Excuse me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"It's obvious she's telling lies!" Marco gestured toward me. "First she gets close to Ranger, a man with guarded secrets, fakes her death and disappears, just to do the same again with me?"

"What makes you think you know me so well?" I asked, shaking from anger.

"Oh, _bella_." The way he said it, it wasn't an affectionate term. "I know you. Very well." He took a step closer to me until he was too close. "As well as a man knows a woman."

If Ranger's fists hadn't suddenly closed around the collar of his dark blue button-up shirt and pounded him against the wall, I might have done something similar—only with less success. "You fucker," Ranger said in a voice I had never heard before. It made my goose bumps give birth to goose bumps and my hair stand on end. The look on his face … Holy shit, my boyfriend was a scary mofo. And I might be crazy, but it was hot.

"Wait just one minute," I said in a quiet voice. Marco looked at me in what would have been a bored look if he didn't have to struggle to breathe against the tight collar around his neck. "Are you implying that there was something between us?"

"Yes," he strangled out.

"Bullshit. I've had a ton of dreams about Camila's life. There was a Seppe. An Adriano. A Maria. My son, Carlo, and then there was a Luca Camila thought about. No Marco."

"Ever see Luca?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"No."

"You're looking at him."

I opened my mouth to speak, but shock kept my voice from working. Luca? He was Luca?

"You never mentioned a Luca," Ranger said, turning his dark gaze toward me. "Who was he?"

I looked at him, shaking my head. I didn't want to have this talk right now.

No longer bothering to struggle against Ranger's death grip, Marco started speaking to Ranger in earnest. "More secrets, my friend. She played me just like she's playing you. I never suspected anything when we were lovers, either. She—" He didn't say anything else because Ranger's fist crashed into his mouth, effectively cutting off all speech. He dropped to one knee with his hand to his mouth.

Oh God! I hadn't wanted Ranger to find out about it like this. I sank into a chair at the table and lowered my face to my hands, inwardly beating my head against the table. "I wanted to find out more about Luca before I brought him up," I said into my palms and then groaned in humiliation.

"_Damn it_," Marco said. He sounded like he was chomping a large piece of gum.

Ranger's low voice was a bit further from me and I imagined he'd crowded into Marco's space. "That was for moving in on me and disrespecting her. She isn't lying and she's not a whore." I heard a rustle of fabric and a thump. "You deserve another one because you never told me about her. You knew I was torn up." There was another thud. "I was trying to _find _her." There was a gagging noise and I got really worried that Ranger would kill the bastard.

"Walker, do something."

"Ranger," Walker said in a commanding voice that made me want to pee myself. "Let go." Silence, no movement. Walker lowered his voice. "We're in a public place, you need to calm down."

"Ranger, please …" I asked in a quiet voice, looking up. Ranger had Marco against the wall again, one hand in his shirt, the other around his neck. It _was_ pretty satisfying to see the blood running out from the corner of his mouth. He'd been a real jerk. "Please, for me."

He hissed out a breath and abruptly let go of Marco, who dropped to the floor and then down to a knee. Ranger stepped back and clenched his fists, arms bent, breathing heavily. "You're lucky."

"It wasn't … like that," Marco said between breaths. "I didn't know … who she was … until early June."

"Let's sit down," Walker said quietly, stepping between the two men directly in Ranger's path and staring him down.

Motioning Ranger to the seat next to me, Walker turned to Marco and motioned to a chair across the table from us, saying, "It's time you understood some things, Marco."

"Who are you?" Marco asked, rising from the floor and taking the offered chair. He reached into his pocket and checked his cell phone, then tossed it gently onto the table top before scooting up and putting his elbows on the table.

"Blake Young, psychiatrist."

Marco twisted slightly to look at him with a cynical expression. I felt Ranger's eyes staring at me. God, we'd just made up. What did he think of me? I wasn't brave enough to look at him just now, so I made a show of crossing my arms and glaring at Marco.

"Stephanie was not aware of herself when she was living as Camila. There were …"

His voice faded out when Marco's phone suddenly started beeping. Just like in the airport, the beep sent off a chain reaction in my brain. I felt it start in the center somewhere and then the shockwaves, stronger this time, branched out throughout my body. A hand touched my back and I screamed and pulled away. It hurt, omigod, it hurt so bad. My body went rigid and tremors started rippling through every muscle. And then suddenly the pain was gone and I lost consciousness.

…

_I looked around for Adriano in the crowd of people. It was almost midnight and thought it would be nice to ring in the New Year together, but the meeting must have still been going on._

"_Camila?" Luca asked to catch my attention. I turned to look at him. He held out a flute of champagne. "A toast to 2011." He smiled. He had a fantastic smile. I struggled over the thought, feeling disloyal to Adriano, though I'd only known him just shy of two months._

"_Thank you," I said and accepted the glass. The lead singer of the live band came up to the microphone and said, "Fifteen seconds to midnight!" And then a few seconds later, he began the countdown. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven …"_

_I looked at Luca and smiled shyly. It looked like I was ringing in the New Year with a man I'd met scarcely two hours before. He smiled back and when the singer shouted, "Happy New Year!" I glanced around at the couples kissing._

_Luca and I looked back at each other, then he shrugged and pulled me into his arms. He was strong and smelled good. His lips were warm and firm against mine. My eyes closed and I clutched his shirt with my free hand._

_The kiss changed from a friendly peck to disastrously sensual. He opened his lips and touched mine with his tongue. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth._

_I had no idea how long the kiss went on, but I never wanted it to end. The man charged me up faster than a bolt of lightning would have. Could it be so wrong to let him kiss me for a few moments when I'd soon be married? Had I ever felt a kiss like this in my life? I didn't remember and couldn't pass up the opportunity._

_When I opened my eyes we were in another time and another place. Luca had met me; though we were forbidden to see each other, he was here. I felt loved and cherished when he risked both Seppe and Adriano's wrath to be with me._

"_Luca, you came."_

"_Always," he said and pulled me into his arms, kissing me soundly, just as he'd done countless times during one of our clandestine meetings. "I'll always come for you."_

_I smiled and he kissed me again. These moments were happiness. The only others that rivaled them were the moments I spent taking care of my son throughout the day when I finished my housework and could give Maria a break. My baby meant the world to me. And so did this man._

_We broke the kiss, but still clung to one another. "Should we actually go see the movie?" he teased._

_I nodded. I didn't want to have nothing to report if Adriano asked about the movie. We went into the theater and took our seats. When the lights went out, the scene changed again._

_Blinking, I looked around the small flat. Luca's home. I'd never come here before, but this time, I came because I couldn't stay away._

"_It's not much," he apologized._

_I smiled and shook my head. "It's wonderful. Very you. I didn't realize you read so much," I said, nodding toward the stuffed floor to ceiling bookshelf by his large overstuffed chair._

"_It calms me, helps me settle down before sleep." He was looking at me, staring. I turned my head to look at him and saw that his soft brown eyes had turned darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"_

_I nodded. Yes, I was sure. I wanted to remember what it was like to be loved. "Please," I whispered._

_He raised his hands to my blouse and began unbuttoning the tiny buttons. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. For tonight, I'd forget about everything, but especially Adriano, and just feel like a woman for once …_

…

"… eyelids are fluttering. She's waking up," Walker said.

"_Shit_. Does this happen every time?" The ass queried in a concerned tone.

"It was worse the first time," Ranger said. His voice was a few decibels below danger level. I imagined the look he gave Marco would have frozen my blood if I'd seen it.

"You said she woke up and thought she was Camila before?"

Walker sighed. "I didn't witness it, but it happened the first two times. She's able to distinguish between the two now."

Someone sat down hard in a chair near me. My body still felt the aftereffects of the reaction to the beeping and I had a slight headache, so I stayed still, just breathing.

"Oh God. I was … terrible to her. Please, let me apologize."

A hand on my arm I hadn't noticed before tightened. "I said to stay away from her. She doesn't deserve this."

"I know this now." Marco sighed and the chair shifted. "Let me make it right."

I cracked open an eye and looked up to the owner of the hand, whom I knew to be Ranger. "It's okay, Ranger. Let him try."

"_Bella_, I've been unfair."

"Ya think?" I looked over to Marco and, incredibly, he looked repentant. At least that sardonic look was gone from his face now. "Why do you suddenly believe that I'm telling the truth now?"

He looked me in the eye. "Because, no one could fake what I just saw you go through."

Swell. He believed me because I was a freak of nature. I pushed myself up from the floor and Ranger helped me into my chair and sat beside me, keeping his chair close, probably to grab me if I went electro on them again.

Marco cleared his throat. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I want to make it clear that we were only together once. In early June."

I waved a hand in the air in a 'cut' motion. "I sort of," I cleared my throat, "just dreamed about it."

Walker sat down across from me beside Marco. "You dreamed about Marco—Luca—this time?"

I nodded. "We met on New Year's Eve." I looked to Marco and he nodded. "And other times." He nodded again. I lowered my eyes. I couldn't look at any of them when I said, "And I dreamed about your apartment."

"Did you know you called out to Ranger in your sleep that night?"

My eyes snapped back up to Marco's. "No."

"That's how I found out you were Stephanie." He leaned forward to take my hand and I felt Ranger tense beside me. What was he thinking? "I'm ashamed to admit I jumped to all the wrong conclusions about you." He looked over at Ranger. "It's the reason I didn't tell you about her right away. I—I wanted to find out more before I said anything. Then it didn't matter because she died. Again."

I shook my head. "Why didn't you recognize me before then?"

Marco looked uncomfortable. "You spoke _Italiano _and you had very short hair. Marotta was fond of you, and knew your family history." He looked at me, really looked at me, and slouched slightly. "But you're nothing like Camila, even though you look like her."

"I believe you."

Ranger and Walker turned their heads to look at me, then. I finally chanced my first look at Ranger and almost wished I hadn't. He had his impassable face on, but I could see how hard he was struggling and my heart broke for him. "I believe him because Camila is nothing like me. Right?"

He shook his head once, briefly. "She's not like you." He finally met my eyes and I reached over and put my hand on top of his squeezing. He squeezed my arm in response. That was good, right?

I looked back at Marco. "What was up with you and Camila? I mean, I know about the apartment," Ranger's hand tightened on my arm right then, "and I know about meeting you at the movies. What else?"

Ranger was quiet. Way too quiet. I started to get a very bad feeling about having this particular conversation in front of him and opened my mouth to say so, when Marco answered.

"I loved her. I was hurt when I realized she wasn't—that she was you."

It was definitely time to end this. I looked at Ranger, who sat silently, staring at me with a pained expression on his face. Shit. I looked over at Walker. "We need to do this some other time."

With a quick glance at Ranger, he nodded. "I'll set up a meeting with Marco later on tonight."

"Thank you," I said and stood. Ranger stood mechanically and I grabbed his hand. "We're leaving," I announced to no one in particular and pulled Ranger toward the front door. Damn, damn, damn!

I led him outside and to the car. He pulled the keys out and I took them, unlocking the car and opening the door to the back seat. I looked at him and he put his hand on the door and motioned me inside. I walked up to him and put my arms around his waist and he grabbed me, clutching me to his chest, nose in my hair, just breathing. Okay, this was good. Holding me was good.

"Get in the car, babe."

I got in the car. He slid in next to me and pulled me into a tight embrace. I clung to him, wishing I could undo the past and all of the actions I'd had no say in performing.

Walker came out a few minutes later and climbed into the driver's seat. I tossed him the keys and he pulled out into the busy street. For once, I didn't notice or worry about the traffic.

"Rubiano," Walker said.

"What?" I lifted my head to meet his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Adriano's last name. I asked. It's Rubiano. He's Marotta's nephew."

I thunked my head down onto Ranger's chest. Great. No wonder he'd pushed me into the marriage. It was a family thing within the _family_.

"I'll call Lester to let him know," he told us and I felt Ranger's nod against the top of my head.

The trip to the hotel seemed to fly by. Ranger was calm, too calm, when we exited the car and rode the elevator up to our floor. Walker had gone to his room and Ranger was moving with deliberate motions, slow, calculated. It was making me nervous.

He opened the door and motioned me inside, so I went in and he followed me. The door clicked shut and he buried his hand in my hair, pulling me into him, and kissed me. I met his kiss with just as much force and our mouths mated, tongues dancing, breaths mingling. My heart was slamming against my sternum and I couldn't catch my breath. He grabbed my t-shirt and it disintegrated in his hands; my bra went with it, and damn, if I wasn't really turned on. We'd done angry sex before, but this was several levels beyond that. This was 100 percent rage on his part, a rage that would only be satisfied by taking what was his.

There was a predatory look in his eyes, rimmed with pain and confusion. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me roughly against his chest, slipping his other hand beneath my butt. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he took my mouth in a fierce kiss. I heard his belt buckle clink, then some rustling and his zipper going. He turned us and took two steps, planting me against the door.

He unzipped my jeans, slipping his hand down inside past the waistband of my panties, his finger dipping inside. We both moaned at the contact and his mouth trailed down my neck, biting and kissing, drawing out strangled sounds of intense pleasure from me before returning to my mouth. His fingers stroked a magical rhythm, hitching up my breath as my desire stoked higher and higher until I could only grasp at him, crying out into his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

His removed his hand and I made noises of complaint, which were muffled by his mouth, but he took my legs and lowered them to the floor, sending my jeans and panties down with them. I kicked them off and he took hold of my thighs and lifted me up to pin me against the door once again. My legs went around his waist and I ground myself against the hard planes of his stomach. I might have ruined his shirt in the process, but I didn't care.

Apparently he didn't either, because he broke the kiss abruptly and, with a hiss of air through his teeth, he shoved his cargos down to mid-thigh and grabbed my hips, letting me use the door to support my back. Somehow he had the presence of mind to grab a condom from wherever … his pocket? The package ripped, and less than two seconds later, he was inside me. I gasped at his invasion. My body had been on overdrive and the intensity I felt at the contact nearly made my head explode. His mouth and hands furiously roved over any part of my body they could reach and his hips moved at a rapid pace, staking a claim that branded my heart with searing heat. Every beat intensified the burn. I'd always be his, had always been his.

I raked my nails down his back earning a low noise from the back of his throat. He drove even harder, if possible, and then, with harsh cries, we climaxed together and he bit down on my shoulder, releasing the pressure immediately when my breath caught, running his tongue over the spot and then kissing it. We were both spent, our breaths broken, pulses pounding, holding each other in a death grip following the whirlwind.

"You. are. mine," he said with his head on my shoulder, before his breathing had calmed down.

I nodded. "Yes."

He raised his head and looked at my shoulder, then tilted his head down to kiss it. "Did I hurt you?"

I smiled a little. "Only enough to make it feel good." I reached up and stroked my hands through his hair and leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed me back, tenderly, slowly.

He kissed behind my ear and squeezed my hips with his hands, nuzzling his face into my neck. I almost missed his words when he spoke again. "Don't tell me what you learn when you meet with them." I nodded again.

He'd let it go the only way he could, by reminding himself that I loved him, that I belonged to him. No words could have helped him right now. He needed to feel, to claim. I understood that and had no complaints.

His eyes were tightly closed, and I got the feeling that he was trying to will away mental images sparked by Marco's confession. He kissed me again, deeper, harder, his lips unrelenting against mine. "I love you," he said after breaking the kiss. "But I can't do that again."

"I know."

He sighed, a long, drawn out sigh, brow wrinkled. "I wanted to be strong, to be there for you, to do my part." He shook his head slightly. "It won't work."

No, I couldn't handle hearing anymore of the sordid details of Camila's life with Ranger present. It might not have been me, but it had been my body and I felt guilty nonetheless.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at me. I gazed back, watching as they changed from anger, pain, and murder to the soft, familiar love from our past … and present. We kissed again, making an unspoken commitment that we were together, were in this together, and would see it through. It was the best promise he could have given me right now.

He broke the kiss and lowered my legs to the floor. We hugged, and he held me, one strong arm around my shoulders, the other around my waist, fingers splayed out over my butt.

"We need to shower again," he said quietly.

I was a little disappointed not to be headed toward the bed, but realized that he must have plans for us. I gave him a quick kiss and asked, "Then what?"

"Go visit Marotta."


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Quick reminder that Italian is still depicted by italics and the next chapter will go up on Thursday this week since the schedule is slower for the next two!_

…

Chapter 18

After we showered, Ranger called Marotta's house to arrange a meeting. He told whomever he spoke to that he had some information about Camila and my jaw dropped. The meeting was confirmed for two hours from now and he hung up.

"You played the Camila card? I can't pretend to be her."

"Don't have to, we just needed to get in to see him."

Before I could reply, his Droid phone chirped and he looked at the display. I saw Lester's name and he met my eyes before answering the call. "Talk."

Lester's deep voice sounded garbled from where I stood. Ranger's half of the conversation brought more questions than it answered.

"Nothing?" He paused to listen and said, "This guy didn't disappear." Another pause. "What was the amount?" He clenched his jaw. "That's a lot of affection."

I wrinkled my forehead, trying to guess what the conversation was about.

"We're paying a visit to Marotta this afternoon." Pause. "Stephanie, too." He listened and his eyes flicked to me. "Told them I have info on Camila." He looked over at the window. "I know who he is, mother hen."

Ranger lowered the phone with a smirk. "Hung up on me."

My eyes widened slightly. "He did?"

"I pissed him off."

Some things had definitely changed since I'd been gone, such as people hanging up on Ranger. Although, given his current state of animosity toward Ranger, it wasn't surprising Lester had done it, especially after being called a mother hen.

"What was that about?"

"Lester found out Marotta put out a hit on Rubiano. A million Euros."

"For Camila."

He nodded. "I'd say he was upset."

No shit. "Safe to assume he didn't have anything to do with my kidnapping?"

"I won't rule out anything until I talk to him."

I went to my suitcase and Ranger took me gently by the shoulders and led me over to the built in wardrobe. I opened the doors to discover that the clothing fairy had left a few outfits for me. I turned to Ranger and pointed to the hangers, eyebrow raised.

"Lester," he said.

"Lester bought more clothes for me?" Maybe the mother hen thing was right.

"Lester _ordered _clothes for you from a boutique we've worked with in the past. You needed something more conservative and traditional."

I shook my head, amazed. "Is there anyone in any city you don't know?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I haven't spent much time in Helsinki." It was good to have him back to normal. It'd been difficult to witness his anger at Marco earlier.

The eye roll was involuntary, or so I told myself. "Okayyy." I turned back to the closet and studied the outfits.

Ranger called Walker and told him about our plans. When he hung up, he came up behind me and nuzzled his nose into my neck and drew in a long breath. "See anything you like?"

I closed my eyes briefly when he kissed the spot on my shoulder where he'd bitten me and then opened them to look over the outfits. I reached in and pulled out a navy blue suit with a cream blouse and matching blazer. "Well, I can handle this one."

He kissed me a final time and pulled a suit out from the wardrobe. "We'd better get dressed, we need to leave soon."

…

Twenty-five minutes later I joined him in the living area wearing the navy suit. The pencil skirt had a hem that fell just above my knee. The blazer had short sleeves to accommodate the heat and I'd found a cameo brooch in its pocket to pin to the throat of the high-necked cream silk blouse. There was also a beige clutch, beige peep toe kitten heels with a modest two-inch heel, and pearl drop earrings.

I kept my makeup simple. Only one coat of mascara, minimal colors, and pink lip gloss. Since my hair was still so short, there weren't a lot of options for fixing it, but I tamed my curls so they weren't quite so wild flying around my head. If I was going to meet a mafia leader with traditional values, I wanted to be as classy as possible. From my dream of Marotta, I knew he was the type of man who expected it.

Ranger had been standing at the window and walked over to draw me into his embrace. "Looks good on you." His black suit looked expensive with its crisp white dress shirt, top button undone, no tie. It fit him as if it were tailored for him and probably was.

"Don't get used to it. I feel like I need a hat and a cart and I could pass for an American Airlines employee. Who picked out this outfit? I want to have a chat with her … or him."

He smiled and kissed me. "Marotta will appreciate it and that's the point today."

"Yeah." My brow wrinkled with worry. "Have you ever met him before?"

"Once or twice. He may not remember me." The tone of his voice said he doubted it and I did, too, given the type of man I'd seen Seppe to be in my dreams. "He'll be happy to see you since he thought Camila was dead."

"It's so weird that I had fake deaths in two different lives. I should write a book."

"That can be your next project."

"Seriously, why would someone go through all the trouble of creating a death for me in Trenton, producing convincing evidence of it, even paying off public employees, so they could move me into a fake life, only to repeat the action to dump me and let me return to my real life again?"

Ranger shook his head, a minuscule movement I caught out of the corner of my eye. "I don't know, but we'll find out. Maybe Marco has more information. I shouldn't have lost my cool."

"It's okay. I didn't handle the whole affair thing very well, either." I mentally kicked myself for going there.

His eyes narrowed. "Let's drop it." His eyes swept down my body. "If I start to dwell on it, we won't leave this room for a long time. I have the urge to remind you again who you belong to."

His words sent a ripple through my pelvis. "Not that I wouldn't enjoy it, but you don't need to _remind _me of anything. I know who has my heart."

He tugged me against his chest and ravaged my mouth in a very thorough kiss, sliding his hands down my body, molding me to him. I pressed my hips against his and we both made a noise at the contact because it felt good and it wasn't enough.

My head spun when he abruptly ended the kiss and stepped back, hands holding my waist to keep me steady. His breathing wasn't as steady as before and mine was more at a marathon pace. "Gotta stop, babe. We need to leave."

I nodded and licked my lips. My lip gloss was gone. I looked at Ranger, but there wasn't a trace of it on him, of course. With a headshake, I reached into my clutch and pulled out the lip gloss I'd tossed inside, applying it once more. "No more kisses."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Do you want to leave?"

He grinned and opened the door. "Later," he whispered against my hair when I passed him. I so loved _later_.

…

The drive to Marotta's estate was pleasant once we got outside the city. I'd refused to look while Ranger navigated through the city traffic, without angry Ranger to divert my attention, the traffic was still disturbing and that was saying a lot since I was a born and bred Jersey driver. Then rental car had two things going for it: good breaks and good maneuverability. It wasn't a Porsche or even a BMW, but it _was _black and relatively comfortable.

I stared out the window as we left the hustle and bustle of the city behind, watching the past and present roll by. Old, scenery, old buildings, new cars, new people. The blend was bittersweet. My past was so screwed up, I could understand how difficult it was that times had passed, things and people had died off, and the new had crept in to fill the voids.

"Deep thoughts?"

I smiled when he spoke. He'd often said those words to me in the past. "That question always makes me wonder."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Do you ask because you want to know what I'm thinking or because you're surprised I can take my life seriously?" I grinned, teasing him.

"Babe."

Just like old times. Almost.

I sighed. "I'm just thinking about time and how it changes things, people. I've never given the past much thought before, but now it's more important than ever before. History. It makes us all who we are."

"Sometimes history isn't who we are," he said, grabbing my hand.

"What if I allowed my life to become what this Camila person was because I secretly wanted it that way?"

He flashed a "don't be absurd" look at me. "Can you honestly say you wanted someone to control your life that way? That you liked having all of your choices taken from you?"

When he put it that way … "No, I'm sure I didn't, but I didn't fight it."

"Maybe you couldn't."

"That doesn't make sense. If I didn't like it, I could have. I'd never let you _or _Morelli tell me what to do before, and you were both very important to me."

"You didn't choose to become Camila, right?"

I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes. "No."

"Someone made you into her. Somehow, she was put into your head. We agree on that?" He downshifted to round a curve and I watched his strong, muscular hands, mesmerized for a moment. "Right?"

I blinked. "Sorry, right. Someone put her in my head."

He downshifted again when we caught up to slower traffic. "Maybe you just couldn't act any other way than how "Camila" would have acted, because that's all the information they gave you."

I blew out a breath. "This just seems so unbelievable. I wouldn't believe it if it hadn't happened to me. I almost don't blame Marco for doubting me, you know?"

He grimaced at the mention of Marco's name. "We're getting closer to figuring it out."

We slowed down even more as a large truck turned off onto a side road, then the line of traffic picked up speed. I looked down at my nails, tracing my thumb over each edge. "What am I supposed to say to this guy?"

Ranger grabbed my hand and lifted it up to kiss my knuckles. "Just be yourself and be honest. We're going there to find out who ruined your life, not give him Camila. Follow your instincts."

"Okay, I can do that."

Too soon, I had to test my instincts. We stood in front of a light peach colored stucco villa with a tan clay tile roof. The house was huge with at least two wings that I could see, several balconies, and beautiful, shining windows. Along the east side of the house was a huge manicured garden with a large, hexagonal aviary on the far end of the garden under a canopy of trees. The sound of the birds chirping and singing was a cheerful greeting to all who came up to the main front doors. The bright sun shining overhead cast a cheerful ambiance on the scene. It was almost like a fairytale, except for the nightmare that brought us here.

When Ranger pressed the doorbell, a classic _ding, dong_ sounded, and a few moments later a butler opened the door and said in Italian, "_Good afternoon._"

He was young, probably in his mid to late twenties, with thick black hair trimmed short, about my height, and wore a black suit with a bowtie. Incredibly formal. I thanked my lucky stars I'd chosen the conservative outfit in my wardrobe.

"_I am Carlos Mañoso. I have an appointment with Signore Marotta_." Ranger inclined his head politely as he spoke, exuding respect for the man in the house. The butler frowned slightly and then he looked at me. Surprise replaced formality.

"_Signora Rubiano? You're alive?_" He completely forgot about Ranger then. He looked stunned.

I didn't want to lie, so I avoided his question. "_Is Seppe ready for us? We need to see him immediately._" I wasn't sure how best to go about saying "surprise, I'm not dead", but talking to him as soon as possible seemed like a good step.

"_I will bring Il Signore immediately_." He motioned us into the large two-story entryway. I took in the white walls, oak and iron accents, and the brownish-orange tile flooring. There were large windows near the upper part of the entryway that let in a lot of sunlight. The room felt warm and inviting and might have settled my nerves if I'd been coming here to meet my boyfriend's parents. Meeting a mafia boss was another story.

The butler turned and led us through the door beneath a staircase to the left into a room which turned out to be an office. He bowed slightly and said, "_Il Signore will be very happy to see you._" Then he bowed slightly and left, closing the door behind him.

The office was done in very masculine accents. A large oak desk, gray slate fireplace, oak wood flooring with a large area rug in the center of the room in deep red, cream, and charcoal. Ranger led me to a pale gray loveseat against the wall across the room from the fireplace and sat, pulling me down next to him and slipping his arm around my shoulders. He toyed with my curls and wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck to pull me in so he could kiss my temple. I crossed my legs and leaned my head against his shoulder.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Marotta burst into the office as if he'd been walking fast. He looked the same as he had in my dream: short, but with an undeniable presence. His dark hair had been recently cut shorter than it had been. I noticed a few gray streaks at his temple that I didn't remember from the dream, but perhaps it was due to the haircut. He was dressed expensively, most likely Armani, and he held himself with grace and strength.

Ranger and I stood to greet him. He only had eyes for me. He searched my face, looked me over from head to foot, and then relaxed slightly. "_So, it is you. I admit I nearly fired Alfonso when he told me you were here._"

God, I felt bad. I knew he cared about her and it must have hurt him to think she was dead. It was the way I felt about my own father when I found out everyone back home thought I was dead. A strange sense of déjà vu clouded my thoughts. "_Seppe._" I held out both hands to him as I'd seen my alter ego do in my dream and he captured them. "_It's good to see you again._" It was easy to mean the words.

"_Orlando has much to explain,_" he said after he'd kissed both of my cheeks. Who the hell was Orlando? He stepped back and took my face into his hands. His face held no expression, but his eyes weren't _quite _calm. "_You look wonderful._"

I blushed slightly and smiled. "_Thank you. Carlos has taken excellent care of me._"

Seppe turned to Ranger with an outstretched hand and said, "_Signore Mañoso, I cannot express my gratitude enough for bringing her home._" I didn't know if he remembered Ranger or if Alfonso had provided the name.

Ranger shook his hand. "_No thanks necessary._"

I put a hand on Ranger's arm and said, "_Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?_" I didn't want to drag this out any longer. I suspected he wouldn't be happy when he found out the truth.

He eyed Ranger for half a beat and then gestured toward the door. "_Lunch is about to be served. Will you join me?_" He was careful, most likely wary and curious about how Ranger fit into all of this. I could tell he didn't like not knowing what had happened to Camila. Still, he was relieved to see me. I hoped he would still be happy when we told him the whole story. "_Rinaldo made your favorite: mezzaluna._"

My stomach growled just then and Seppe turned toward me with a slight smile and then went through the door out to the entryway. We made our way into a dining room which I couldn't have described later if my life depended on it. Truthfully, once we left the office, the smells wafting toward us had me practically drooling. I got fleeting glimpses of silver, china, crystal, and an ornately carved dark oak dining table and matching chairs.

Ranger and Seppe stood looking at me, Ranger by my chair and Seppe beside his own. I looked at both of them and Ranger glanced toward my seat and back up at me. Realization dawned and I smiled, allowing Ranger to seat me in my chair. Once I was settled, both men sat and the silver lids were lifted from the matching dishes full of aromatic food.

Again, the men waited for me, but I was quicker this time. I grabbed the large silver spoon from the dish of mezzaluna and spooned a hearty helping onto my plate. The dish was incredible. Half-moon shaped pouches of pasta stuffed with chicken and tossed with marinated shrimp in a fragrant, spicy red sauce.

"Amazing," I said after my first bite before I could stop myself.

The room froze and I glanced up at Seppe. He sat calmly, hands folded on the edge of the table in front of him, a carefully expectant expression on his face. I looked at Ranger who gave me a slight nod. Now or never.

I turned back to Seppe and spoke in English since the cat was out of the bag. I cleared my throat and said, "Orlando isn't the only one with a lot to explain."

The tight, cold smile on Seppe's face wasn't encouraging. "I'm listening … for now."

"_Signore_," I began.

"You may call me Seppe."

"Seppe," I began again. "I'm not who you thought I was, obviously." Dumb, dumb, dumb! Why couldn't I be better at explaining? "What I mean is, the person you knew isn't real. I wasn't myself."

His head tipped a little to the left, but his face gave away nothing of his thoughts. He turned to Ranger and said, "_Signore_ Mañoso, do you have anything to do with this deception?"

Ranger leaned back in his seat and fixed an impassive look on Seppe. "No. What Stephanie," he gestured to me, "was trying to tell you is that she was a victim, just as you were."

"I don't have patience for this kind of thing. Begin your story before I lose my temper." I suspected it was _not _a good thing when he lost his temper.

I took a deep breath. "My name is Stephanie Plum. Roughly ten months ago, I was kidnapped from my home. A death was staged to make my friends, my family … and Carlos," I nodded toward Ranger, "think I was dead. Shortly after that, I came here to live with you." He seemed to be holding onto his patience so far, so I continued. "I wish I could say I remembered it, but I don't. Not in the traditional sense. I've been having these … dreams, flashbacks. I found out that I thought I was a woman named Camila. In my first flashback, I was here, with you. We went to your cemetery."

"I remember," he said. "Excuse me, but you are trying to tell me that you were not aware of your true identity?"

I nodded. "It is exactly what I'm telling you. Carlo," my throat tightened at the thought of him and I swallowed, "is—was Carlos's son. I woke up in Paris a few days ago and had no idea how I got there. I didn't even know I'd had a baby at the time."

Seppe gave a slight shake of his head and then leaned forward to spoon some of the pasta onto his plate. "Eat before your food gets cold. I want to think about this."

I looked at Ranger, who was now serving himself, and he did something with his eyes that felt a little to me like he was saying 'Don't worry', but I couldn't be sure.

The pasta with the explosive flavor I'd loved, now tasted bland and boring in my mouth. I was worried and sad. I ate mechanically, taking small bites and chewing slowly before swallowing. I didn't want to offend Seppe anymore than I already had.

The wine was poured by a white-coated server and I drank that, too, not tasting or smelling it. It was very easy for me to sink into self-pity for all I'd lost.

I jumped when Seppe spoke, finally, after wiping his mouth with his linen napkin and tossing it down onto the table beside his plate. "Orlando Costa." He didn't have a deep voice, but it held power and carried weight behind it. The name bellowed through my chest after he'd spoken. "My gut tells me he is involved."

I glanced at Ranger and gave a slight shrug. "I'm sorry, Seppe, but who is Orlando Costa?"

"One of my people. Lives in New Jersey."

My fork clattered onto my plate and I slapped my hand on top of it to silence the noise. "Trenton? Newark?"

Seppe leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach. "Trenton. How did you guess?"

"I grew up in Trenton. That's where I lived when I was taken." The words seemed to come from someone else, though they made perfect sense. Finally, a real clue, but I still didn't know who this Orlando was.

Seppe's smile was frigid and he sat up and put his hands on the armrests of his chair. "Then you would know Orlando as Harry."

Ranger's low, angry voice filled my ears, but it was the "Harry the Hammer" he spit out that caught my attention. Only one question surfaced in my fuzzy mind: Why?


	19. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 19

_Harry the Hammer…_

My mouth opened and closed twice, but I couldn't think of one single thing to say. My brain tried to wrap around Seppe's words, but I couldn't make sense of it. I thought of Vinnie and the bonds office, but couldn't think of even a _tiny _reason for Harry to want to mess with my life. Surely he wouldn't hold a grudge because I didn't report Vinnie's extracurricular activities.

Ranger leaned forward, arms on the table now, and said, "The name Costa should have tipped me off, but I didn't know his first name was Orlando." A heavy admission for Ranger since he knew a _lot _about _every_one.

Seppe waved a hand in the air as if to wave away Ranger's comment. "I am the only one who calls him Orlando. He hates it. I use it to remind him who I am and that I _can_. The name has been passed down for a few generations. But Harry has always been Harry … except to me."

"Why Harry?" Ranger asked.

Seppe shrugged. "His middle name is Harold."

My brain finally recovered and I asked, "Why would Harry do something like this to me? What did I ever do to him?"

Ranger nodded. "Good question, babe. He was never on my suspect list. Never would have put him there. No apparent motive, no indication of trouble."

My head was shaking 'no' before Seppe had finished speaking. "It doesn't make sense." Then I had a strange thought. "Could he have done this to _protect_ me from something?" I didn't know why Harry would want to protect me, either, but it made more sense than him deliberately ruining my life just for—for what?

Ranger cocked his head to the side, eyes fixed on me. "It doesn't _appear _to make sense. You know as well as I that people have their own reasoning, it doesn't have to make sense to us." He turned to Seppe. "Any theories?"

Seppe stood and we followed suit. Clearly the meal was over. "I have no answers, but I will give you the story." He walked back to his study and we followed, taking our original positions on the love seat while Seppe leaned against the front of his desk.

"Orlando brought her here. Said she was the daughter of a close friend of his who recently died and she was alone, no _famiglia_ left. Mario and Teo were working on a big research project together, something to do with Mario's work at the University of Tor Vergata here in Rome. The gentlemen had borrowed Orlando's private plane to travel for research."

"How did they know, uh, Orlando?" I asked.

"He was funding the project, apparently. He is very interested in science, always has been." Science? "They were doing genetics research. I don't know much more about it."

"Were they colleagues?" Ranger asked.

"No. Camila told me Teo was his research assistant, and also a student at the university. A couple of years younger than her. For years she'd been afraid to go outside, stayed in the home. Teo was always around working with her father. The romance blossomed from that. Apparently, Mario approved of the match, felt it would help her."

I nodded. "Right, I remember Camila thinking about something terrible that happened to her mother." I tried to recall the details. "She was attacked and killed, but she hadn't thought of the details."

Seppe nodded. "Yes. A robbery gone wrong."

I sat back, thinking. Were these stories invented just for the sake of setting up cover for Camila or had this stuff really happened to someone?

Seppe continued his tale. "When the plane crashed, Orlando felt responsible—it was his plane. He wanted to take care of Camila, but she refused to get on a plane to America. She was Italian, didn't want to leave her country and was afraid of airplanes. Didn't want to leave her home, either, but she had no choice." His eyes grew soft for a second as they traveled over my face. "When he brought her to me, I realized she needed protection. She was broken, afraid … timid. Very jumpy."

It didn't sound like me at all, but it did seem vaguely familiar. The fear. I'd felt it even in my dreams.

"The crash was in the beginning of October, a month before he brought her here. Orlando said she was diagnosed with a brain tumor within days of their deaths and had immediate treatment at his insistence. When she came to me, her hair was gone; shaved from the operation to remove the tumor."

"Brain tumor?" Ranger asked, then looked at me.

I smacked my forehead. "I forgot. Camila thought about it in my first dream, but I woke and didn't remember who you were. By the time I did, I was more concerned with what happened as opposed to all of her thoughts. It completely slipped my mind."

Ranger's brows lowered and looked at Seppe. "Was it cancer? Should she be under a doctor's care?"

Seppe shook his head. "No. Orlando said the tumor was removed because it affected her memories and she had mood swings. She'd forgotten most of her childhood already. As far as I know she was finished with treatment."

I held my hands up, palms out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you saying this brain tumor thing is real? I thought—" Holy shit. All the headaches I kept getting. I'd attributed them to my brain confusion thing. What if the brain confusion thing was because of the tumor? I looked at Ranger and he gave me a slight nod. We'd investigate all possibilities. I wanted to talk to Walker right away.

"It is real. You were very tired from your medical treatment when you came to live here."

My shoulders slumped and I crossed my arms, thinking. Even if I had a tumor, it didn't explain the strange reaction to the beeping in the airport and from Marco's phone, did it? Now I really wished Walker had come with us.

"She came in the beginning of November?" Ranger asked.

Seppe slid his hands into his pockets, a distant look on his face. He was reminiscing. "Yes, the second. I remember the date because I hosted a large family dinner a few days later and she met Adriano at that time." His face twisted into anger. "He is my nephew." Which we had already learned. "I invited him with the express purpose of introducing him to Camila." He looked at me apologetically. "I thought having a friend her age, someone I trusted, would be good for her."

"They began dating after the family dinner?" I asked.

Seppe nodded. "Adriano was quite taken with her. I readily gave him permission. She agreed and I was very happy for both of them."

He shoved himself away from the desk and began to pace in front of the fireplace, an act he most likely did often. "He was unattached and I always thought he was a good boy. Maybe something would come of it, especially with the _bambino _on the way."

Someone sighed. I realized it was me and shook my head again. "Seppe, can I ask you about that? About Adriano, I mean?"

He nodded with a wary look.

"It was clear in my dreams, and in how you've spoken of her today, that you were quite fond of, uh, Camila." It was starting to feel weird speaking about myself in the third person and at the same time not really speaking about myself at all. I was starting to feel like I had split personalities.

"Yes." He walked over and stood in front of me. "You want to know why I pushed for the relationship with Adriano."

I nodded. "I'm trying to understand why she gave in so easily."

Seppe nodded and crossed his arms. "I cannot express how much I regret my ignorance, Cam—Stephanie. I pushed her toward him. I thought if she did more normal things, it meant she was healing. Getting married, having a family. It is what a woman does. To a man like me, it wasn't right for her to remain single and pregnant. She needed a husband to support her, help her. The marriage felt right and, ashamedly, I did not ask if it was what she wanted. If I had, this never would have happened."

I could see he completely blamed himself for the situation with Adriano. Maybe he had pushed, but Camila hadn't trusted his love enough to be honest. "Seppe, it's my understanding that Camila didn't open up to you and tell you how things really were."

"No, she did not. I think, and I feel I knew her well after spending every day with her for that two months, that she was afraid I would be disappointed." He shook his head and scowled. "It is not a good feeling to know she was more willing to live the way she did than to tell me the truth."

We were both silent for a moment. Ranger, of course, was always silent when he didn't have anything to say. I just had no response because I couldn't understand the things that motivated Camila. Well, most of them. I was beginning to understand her love for Carlo, but I still couldn't relate. She knew him and I didn't.

Seppe smiled sadly. "I should have let her explore the friendship with Luca." Ranger sat back and crossed his arms, body stiff.

"You knew she was close to Luca?"

"Yes. I am not blind." He walked back to his desk and leaned against it. "I also suspected early on that Adriano was jealous of him. He asked often to remove him as her bodyguard, but I couldn't. She felt safe with him and that was important to me."

"Luca was my—her bodyguard?"

"I assigned him there. Do you want to talk to him?"

Ranger answered. "We'll handle that, with your permission."

"Of course," Seppe said and then returned to the story. "Adriano's jealousy prodded him to push for a fast wedding. I agreed. I thought it best to get her settled in with him before the child arrived. If I had asked him to wait, things would have been different. I didn't know Luca or if he could be trusted. Adriano was the safe choice in my mind."

"You wanted to protect her," I said.

Seppe nodded. "Very much so, but it was a serious error in judgment. You cannot know how terrible I felt when I found out how he treated her."

"You put out a hit on him," Ranger said.

Seppe eyed him thoughtfully. "You have done your homework."

Ranger nodded. "But you haven't been able to find him."

Seppe's handsome face twisted into a vicious scowl and he stopped pacing. "That _suino_. We hunt him every day, every night. He is out there and we will get him."

The conversation had taken a downturn, so I sat straighter and changed course. "Adriano aside," I said. After all, we didn't know if he would bother with me again now that I wasn't Camila. We didn't know anything about his motivations, either. "What bothers me now is what's to stop Harry from doing this again, or worse, if I go home?"

"Me," Seppe said slightly relieved at the change in topic. "He will never bother you again. I owe you that much for all the trouble I caused."

"We still need to know why," Ranger said in a quiet voice. I felt it: his anger. You couldn't tell by looking at his face, but it radiated out from him.

"Of course." Seppe pulled a thin wallet from his breast pocket and opened it, pulling out two business cards. He handed one to each of us. They were plain white, thick linen cards with Seppe's name, Giuseppe Marotta, on the front in large, bold block letters. On the center in the back, a phrase was written in Italian. The script was small and black, bold, yet decorative. It read: _Water the flowers_.

Immediately I thought of Grandma Mazur. When I was a girl, I always helped her take care of the freesias she grew in the flower beds in front of her house.

"_Flowers are like people. They need love and care to flourish. If you see a thirsty plant, Stephanie, water it. Just like you should help out a person in need. All it takes is a little water to make their beauty flourish._"

Seppe's card made perfect sense to me, so I smiled when he said, "My people help, no questions asked, if they see this card. All of my people."

Ranger stood and I followed suit. The men shook hands. "Appreciate it," Ranger said. "I'll make sure you know everything we find out."

"Make no mistake, _signore_ Mañoso. I will be involved when it comes to Orlando. Harry. Whatever you want to call him. That is my business." He studied Ranger's hard eyes for a second. "Perhaps _our _business."

"Agreed," Ranger said.

There was something else I wanted to know. "You were told Camila died?" I asked.

"Adriano tried to kill her, but Luca intervened. She was in a coma for a week." Seppe walked around his desk to sit in his chair looking a little weary. "Orlando said he found a specialist in America who could help her. I didn't question it. He was so protective of her that it never crossed my mind to suspect him of anything. He told me a week later that she died from her injuries." It made sense for him not to have questioned Harry. Why would he suspect foul play? I wouldn't have. I hadn't, not until I found out he was involved, that is.

"We have one more question, if you don't mind?" Ranger asked.

"Of course, what is it?"

"The explosion. Is it possible the baby wasn't inside?"

Seppe looked troubled. "_Signore_, I am sorry. If I had it in my power to give you hope, I would do it. The bomb was in the nursery, there were no remains to recover. The mailman reported handing his nanny, Maria, a package a few minutes before the explosion so we know they were at home." He looked directly at me and said, "We placed a memorial for Carlo and Camila in the cemetery. Would you like to see them?"

I looked at Ranger and he nodded. "Please," I said. Seppe indicated for us to follow him and we did. I thought it was ironic that I was returning to the first scene I'd dreamed about, only for a different headstone.

As we headed out the back of the house, I said, "In my dream, you had placed memorials out here for my father and fiancé. Is there any way to find out who these two men really were?"

"We ask Orlando. But I do not think it matters." Seppe pressed a loose fist to his chin, the index finger covering his lower lip, then pointed at me. "My gut says everything centers on you and these men were unimportant."

Unless those men were people someone missed. People who had wives or lovers or families who are mourning them. What about those people?

"I agree," Ranger said.

When we got to the correct spot, I looked at the obelisk with Camila's name on it. Her death date was July 22nd. The day before I woke up in Paris. I shook my head. I supposed if I was going to wake up as Stephanie Plum, if that was the plan, then Camila would have to be dead. It made sense in that regard.

Ranger pointed to the date, noting the significance, and I nodded. Then he stepped over to a little obelisk, a duplicate of Camila's only much smaller. I took the three steps necessary to join him and looked at the inscription. His full name was Giancarlo Teodoro Paroni, named after the man Camila had thought was his father. His birthday was April 10th, two days before the photo was taken of me leaving the hospital with him. His date of death was listed as June 12th. Two months old. It wasn't fair.

Pain sliced through my heart and I clutched Ranger's arm. Finding out he was really gone filled me with a despair I couldn't explain. I hadn't realized I'd hoped he was alive until that moment.

Ranger wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight while I wept. When I finally had myself under control, we rejoined Seppe in the house—I hadn't heard him leave, but clearly he'd wanted to give us privacy. We thanked him before returning to the rental car with a promise to contact him when we were ready to leave Italy and return to Trenton.

I finally got myself mopped up from crying after we left and said a husky, "Sorry."

"Why?"

"I lost it."

"So did I." My jaw dropped and I threw him a 'yeah right' look. "Babe, just because my tears aren't visible doesn't mean I don't bleed. It hurts to see a headstone for my son. Just like it hurts to see you in pain."

"Okay," I said. Truthfully, I hadn't expected him to have any type of connection to Carlo. The dreams had given that to me, but it wasn't fair to assume he didn't have feelings for his own kid.

"Ask Marco if he knows who treated Camila, I'll check with a contact to see if he can dig anything up on that."

"Okay."

We were silent for the rest of the trip, the melancholy end to our afternoon hung over our heads like a dark cloud.

…

I paced back and forth in front of the door in Walker's room. "I don't like this."

Ranger and I had returned to the hotel with enough time to kiss goodbye and then I headed straight to Walker's room.

"It'll be okay. He knows what happened now. I think his attitude will be much improved from this morning."

"That's not what I mean. I don't like meeting this way, excluding Ranger."

"He asked for it."

I sighed. "I know, but it still feels … wrong somehow."

Walker came over to stand in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Are you worried he'll want to rekindle a romance with Camila?"

Just thinking about it all made my head hurt. "I don't know what I'm worried about. No, that's not it. I'm not worried. I'm frustrated. I shouldn't have to deal with this."

"It happened and, fair or not, you've got to deal with it." He removed his hands from my shoulders and turned to sit on the couch.

"Stop shrinking me, Walker. Save it for when Marco gets here."

He smiled and leaned forward. "Marco's not going to like me administering the drug to you."

"Not his business." Why would he care anyway?

Walker answered my unspoken question. "He's the type of man who thinks a woman needs to be saved."

I sat down and crossed and uncrossed my ankles. "Do you think I need to be saved?"

Walker leaned back and looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you?" He was shrinking me again, but I let it slide.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Sure, Ranger saves my ass a lot. I get into a lot of trouble, but I'm independent. I certainly don't expect him to do it." I was glad when he did when I got over my head.

"Why do you think he came here?"

"He came because he needed to see me. I was dead, and then suddenly I wasn't."

"And?"

"I asked him to come."

He crossed his arms. "Because _you _wanted him to save the day?"

"Maybe. Yes—no. Not to save the day. Certainly I wanted him to get my passport issue fixed, but that was a reasonable thing to expect. I just needed him near me."

"You're part of each other. It's not a weakness to need each other."

I thought about it. Okay, yeah, if the big bad monster came to kill me, Ranger's muscles would come in handy. But it wasn't why I wanted him here. I just needed him. The love part. The comfort. The strength he brought to me and accepted from me.

"I think you do a lot of saving yourself. Look at Camila. Even then, you fought."

I snorted. "Right. And I walked my meek ass around his house and did everything he asked. No complaints."

Walker shook his head. "But that's not like Stephanie Plum. Camila did everything she thought was right to protect her child. That's what a mother does."

The knock on the door made me jump. "Damn, I'm not ready for this." I got up and walked slowly to the door, checking the peep hole. On the other side, Marco looked up and down the hallway and then at the peep hole. I opened the door and gave him a tight smile. "Come on in."

He walked, hands in his pockets, looking completely out of place. At least we felt the same in that regard. "Thank you for allowing me to help."

I nodded. I wasn't ready to make nice with him. Not just yet. "Have a seat." I gestured toward the other chair with my hand and he walked over and sat down. I took the other chair and we both looked at Walker. It was show time.


	20. Chapter 20

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: I'm going to try to post the next chapter on Wednesday instead of Thursday because of Thanksgiving, but please forgive me if it isn't posted until Friday!_

…

Chapter 20

Marco looked around. "Ranger's not coming?"

"No."

He sighed. "I wanted to explain to him that I fell in love with Camila _before _I knew she was you."

I shook my head. "I'm sure he gets that, Marco. It's best to leave it alone." He nodded after a few seconds of thinking and I turned to Walker. "So?"

"What?"

I gestured in the vicinity of his body. "Shouldn't you be pulling out sharp things and filling them or something?"

He looked at me steadily for a few seconds and realization dawned on me. "You don't want to do it anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Marco asked, facing me, but looking back and forth between me and Walker.

I huffed. "Walker is _supposed _to be giving me a drug that will help make it easier for me get into Camila's memories."

"What?" he asked Walker, turning to him. "I'm no doctor, but it doesn't sound safe to me."

Big eye roll from me. "Marco, I want this and I make my own decisions."

He shook his head slightly and ignored me. "Is this safe? I can't believe Ranger would agree to this."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Hey. Marco." He looked at me. "Don't ignore me, okay? My life, my decision. Even Ranger's smart enough not to stand in my way when I want to do something."

Marco stared at me for a brief second and then nodded. "I meant no offense. It is simply that I—" He looked at me, then. Really looked at me. "You're not Camila and part of me wants you to be, still feels responsible."

"Well, stop. I'm _not _her. I don't let people tell me what to do. And I speak for myself, too. Stephanie Plum. Nice to meet you, Marco." I held out my hand. He hesitated slightly and then leaned across the coffee table to shake it in a firm grasp.

When Marco returned to his seat, Walker put his elbows on his knees and fixed me with a serious look before saying, "I originally agreed to the treatment because a child's life was in danger. The situation has changed and the risk isn't worth it. If Carlo was in that house," I felt a slash of pain across my heart at his words, "there's nothing that can be done. And if he wasn't, then we'll find out more when we find Adriano."

I pressed my lips together for a second until I was sure I could speak without sounding like an emotional wreck. "What _about_ finding Adriano?"

Walker raised an eyebrow.

"What if I can help?" Even I knew my argument was weak, but I couldn't seem to stop myself from pushing the issue.

He shook his head. "Why are you so adamant about taking these drugs? The reason for the urgency is gone, Stephanie." Then a look or recognition came into his eyes. "That's it. You're hoping to see something that will give you hope."

I looked away from him and said, in a quiet voice, "I won't let him be dead." Neither of them responded. Maybe they understood that I just needed a minute. When I knew I wouldn't cry, I turned back to Walker. "What if we can't trigger a dream today?"

He lifted his hands, palms up, in a 'so what' expression. "Do you really think there's anything else you could see in her memories that will help us?"

I looked down at the floor. "Maybe not."

"Stephanie," Walker said. I looked up at him. "I do have another idea. It might be a little risky, but much safer than this drug." He hesitated a little. "It will most likely not be pleasant for you."

Without knowing how, I perfectly understood where he was going. "Yes. We can try it, Walker."

Marco sat forward. "What? What do you want to try?"

I looked at Marco. "Do you have your phone on you?"

He jumped to his feet, angry, backing away and gesturing wildly with his hands. "No. No way."

Walker opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand and silenced him. Then I stood and walked toward Marco, stopping just short of his flailing arms. "Marco, listen."

"I will not let him torture you. On purpose!"

Suddenly I knew we were dealing with much more than just Walker's proposed treatment method. "This isn't about what Walker wants to do, is it?"

Marco scowled and threw himself down into his chair, slouching down and tipping his head against the back, staring up at the ceiling. "Of course it is. This is mad."

"You feel guilty." His head snapped up and he gave me a dark look. "You do. Because when you found out that Adriano was abusing me—Camila, and that you could believe her stories, you thought it was your fault. You would have told Seppe, wouldn't you?"

He let out a slow breath. "It would have been the only way I could have helped her. I wasn't allowed—"

"Because of you were undercover. No hard feelings there, Marco." In fact, it even made sense and I had long since come to realize that it must be hard for them to stand by and let it happen. "I'm more pissed about your attitude this morning—"

"I apologized for that. I know it doesn't make it disappear, but I said I was wrong."

"—but I'm getting over it."

We both smiled slightly. "Okay. We're good?"

I nodded. "We're getting there." I turned around and returned to my chair. "Look, Walker's plan is a good option. Yeah, it's unpleasant for me, but I think we all know it's safer than the drug."

"How can we be sure?"

Walker said, "Because she recovers quickly and doesn't experience any confusion about who or where she is."

Marco sighed and pulled his cell phone out. "I turned if off before I got here."

Walker took the phone, turned it on, and tapped the touch screen for several minutes. Finally, he slipped it into the pocket of his blazer. "Why don't we get started?" When both of us nodded, he said, "Let's just talk for a little while."

"About what?"

"We know how you met and how the relationship progressed. We were wondering if you could tell us more about Camila's life with Adriano."

"I know he was very demanding of her. She had to call him every hour when she was out. At first, I thought he was just really worried about her, as I was. Seppe told me she'd been ill." I nodded. "After the wedding—"

"When did they marry?" Walker asked.

"January. Ah, the 20th. At the Marotta compound." He looked at both of us before continuing. "After, she began to say that he made her keep food logs and he made her do a doctor approved exercise program every morning and evening. I thought maybe he was overprotective, but still seemed to be taking care of her."

I couldn't help myself. I snorted. "Marco, not many men would be that obsessive about keeping track of someone's eating habits. Maybe some would be enthusiastic about the exercise, but the food journal?"

He looked embarrassed. "Well, yes, I did realize that later. The truth is she wouldn't talk about Adriano much. She felt guilty about breaking her vows and I think she was worried about getting caught. We spent most of our time talking, kissing … making the most of our time together."

A piece of lint on the jeans I'd changed into when Ranger and I returned to the hotel suddenly grabbed my attention. It was easier to focus on it than on the fact that I'd had an affair, that I'd married someone other than Ranger, or … everything else that had happened.

He lifted his foot and crossed his ankle over his knee. "After she had the baby, the look in her eyes changed. Wanted our meetings to be even more discreet. There was a real fear. And I didn't have the freedom to investigate." He looked angry for a minute and then sighed. "After I realized she was you," he pointed to me, "I thought it had all been part of an act to gain my sympathy and trust."

When I started to narrow my eyes, he put his hand up to stop me. "You don't have to say it. The truth is, if given a do over, I would have done the same thing because it's what I'm trained to do. Stand back and assess when something doesn't seem right." He made a small 'palms up' gesture I took to mean 'what do you do?' and said, "Still, it's been a struggle for me to know the trouble that doubt caused you. What it caused her."

"Did she say what happened after the baby was born?"

Marco shook his head. "He was angrier. I do know that. And he made her start running before the doctor cleared her for normal activities. Carlo was less than a month old."

Walker and I looked at each other, probably for different reasons. I worried about what impact that could have on my health _now _and Walker … I had no idea what he was thinking. He turned to Marco. "Did she ever say why he made her run?"

Marco shrugged. "I assumed it was abnormal obsession. She never gave any reasons when I asked."

Suddenly, I recalled the dream I'd had when Tank had shown me the pregnancy pictures. "Ohhh, noooo," I said, dragging out the vowel sounds in a half moan, half frustrated tone. I put my hands to my temples and leaned forward, elbows on the chair's arms, head shaking back and forth. "I know," I said.

"What?" They asked in unison.

Without looking up, I said, "Adriano was angry with Camila for listing Teo as Carlo's father on the birth certificate. He'd clearly expected to be listed as such. It fit in his plans with the perfect family. When she didn't do it, he wanted her to have _another_ baby. _His _baby. Now, I think his plan was to get rid of Carlo all along."

Walker shook his head. "So, what was the explosion about, then?"

I wondered, too. Then my head shot up. I looked at Marco. "What if I _was _pregnant? Then he _would_ kill Carlo because he knew I wouldn't do anything stupid as long as I was pregnant. Carlo was his bargaining chip and he wouldn't get rid of him without some security."

"Did you ever hear anything about a pregnancy or a miscarriage?" Walker asked Marco.

Marco looked like he would be sick. "No. When she was in the hospital, a pregnancy was never mentioned, but what she says makes sense. Adriano would only eliminate Carlo if he got what he wanted."

We were all silent contemplating the possibility, but then I decided I couldn't dwell on it right now. We didn't know anything and I was going to drive myself crazy with wild scenarios if I didn't stop. The motivations only went as far as our imaginations without the benefit of talking to the people responsible. So far our research pointed to Adriano and Harry. And even though I couldn't think of a reason he'd want to hurt me, Harry made more sense than Adriano, especially given our connection to Trenton. Were they in this together or was Adriano clueless about who Camila really was?

It was more productive to move on right now than to dwell on 'what ifs' when we had no way to get any confirmation. "Tell me about the end. How she got away from him. Seppe told me that Adriano tried to kill her and you were involved in helping."

Marco nodded. "I hadn't heard from you—her since our night together. It reinforced my belief that you had been trying to trick me. I was almost pulled off the case because we didn't know if my cover had been blown."

I nodded. I wasn't going down Blame Lane again, so I just waited for him to continue.

Marco dropped his foot from his knee and sat forward so he was barely on the edge of the cushion. "It was the third week of June. Around the 19th, that's my sister's birthday. Might have been the day after. Camila called me from a number I didn't recognize. In fact, the only reason I took the call was because I didn't know it was her. I wouldn't have answered … if I _had _known." He gave me an apologetic look and I waved it off.

"She was frantic. Said Adriano was going to kill her and she didn't know who else to call. I don't know why, and I asked myself this question all the way there, but I went to help her. I thought I was a fool until I jumped the wall into the back and saw Adriano holding her head under the water in the pool. Her arms and legs were flailing everywhere, she was fighting hard. He looked up and saw me, let go, and took off running. I shot at him, but can't be sure I hit him. He didn't stop running."

"He was trying to drown her?"

"Yes. I pulled her out and performed CPR. She wasn't breathing. I called Emergency Services and they had to shock her with paddles twice before her heart started to beat again."

"Hmm," Walker said. "They defibrillated her twice?"

Marco didn't get to answer because the phone's beep sounded. The pain was worse than ever this time and I gasped, mouth open, head back. I felt like every part of my body had lit up. I fell to my hands and knees, Marco's shoes swam in my line of vision before everything went black.

…

_I felt so weak today. It had been two days since Adriano brought any food to me, and even longer since he brought me fresh water to drink. Sprawled out on the floor in the kitchen on the slate flooring, I lay, staring at his shoes as he walked in from the hallway adjoining this room to the sitting room._

_He had his running shoes on and I wanted to cry. I had no energy for running today. No energy for anything._

_Adriano walked straight up to me and nudged my face with his shoe. "Get up," he said. I only managed to turn my face so I could look up at him. He yanked me to my feet by my hair, drawing a low whimper from me, but when he let go, I crumpled._

"_What's the matter with you?"_

_I was proud of myself for glaring at him, though it earned me a backhand across the cheek. I was lying across the floor once more, only facedown, pressing my pounding cheek against the cold stone._

"_Oh yes," Adriano said. "You must be hungry."_

_My stomach twisted painfully, but I didn't move, didn't look at him._

"_Do you know why I haven't fed you?" I didn't answer and I could feel his anger build up even more. "I found your little water stash, Camila."_

_This was the first real moment of fear I'd experienced in a few days. I'd been numb since the explosion ten days ago, since Adriano had locked me in the house with guards who refused to let me leave. He'd turned off the water, all except the toilet. I had to depend on him for every meal, and he didn't bring them regularly. It was the ultimate control game, and I was losing. Now even more so._

_At first, when I realized the water was off and questioned him, he told me that I had the toilet water available to drink or wash with, I was angry. Every morning, he brought with him a bottle of filtered water with exactly the amount needed to make his cup of espresso. On the second morning, I was desperate. Almost desperate enough to drink the water he brought for me and risk punishment or to break down and use the water from the toilet._

_That day, he left me alone to make his espresso while he went out to talk to the guards and I made a snap decision. Opening a drawer, I pulled out the empty bottle from yesterday. For some reason I'd kept it. I took a marker from the drawer and marked a line on the empty bottle at the same place where the water line was on the full bottle._

_My heart was stuck in my throat as I went to the bathroom and filled up the second bottle from the toilet. It took a couple of tries, but I'd gotten it to the right level and then scurried back to the kitchen. I immediately poured the water into the machine and shoved the marked bottle under the sink. The fresh water I also shoved under the sink behind the cleaning supplies. Then I made his espresso._

_He came into the kitchen just as I was pouring the espresso into his cup. He took it and sipped, then declared it the best cup I'd made. I'd had to use all of my inner strength to keep from giving anything away with my face._

_I'd rationed the water, drinking a little of it throughout the day. Somehow, he'd found out about it. I didn't know how and it didn't really matter. What mattered was that he knew and he would retaliate._

"_I'm surprised you thought of it, really. You're showing a resourcefulness I'd never expect. You should have stuck to making fancy beverages." The rage on his face made my blood pump faster._

_I glanced longingly at the back door while he waited for my response and I decided I wasn't going to respond. I didn't owe him anything. I couldn't leave or run, not with the guards watching me. Besides, I'd tried to leave. Three times. I still hurt from his most recent punishment. My left eye was so swollen I couldn't see out of it._

_I eyed him warily. It wasn't like Adriano to be so silent or patient. He was most dangerous when he seemed calm. He was still waiting, still silent._

_Without warning, Adriano grabbed me roughly, dragging me to my feet. With his arm around my waist, he strong armed me through the house to the bedroom. He tore my yellow summer dress from my body and leaned down to bite my breast in part possession, part punishment. He did it because he could and because it hurt. _

_I didn't cry out, though the pain screamed through me. Instead, I went to the one place that made Adriano's touches tolerable. I thought of Luca. His gentleness, the soft kisses he'd trailed over my body. It had been two weeks since he'd contacted me or come to check on me. Two weeks since we'd finally given in to our love, our attraction. I didn't know why Luca had been silent. Was he through with me? Had something happened to him? Would I ever know?_

_It had also been two weeks since Adriano had locked me in this house with no running water save for the toilet, no electricity, no mobile phone, and no contact with the outside world. Still, that wouldn't have stopped Luca if he'd wanted to see me. Something had happened. I was sure of it._

_When he was finally finished with me, Adriano rolled over and fell asleep. At first I thought it was a trick. He'd never done it before. His displays of dominance usually energized him. I waited until I heard his breathing change to deep and steady. Carefully, I crept off the bed and when I was finally on the floor, I froze with bated breath, listening. When he didn't stir, I tiptoed to his clothes and released his mobile phone from its case, then stopped again, to listen._

_No change. I left the room slowly, soundlessly, and walked through the bathroom, then turned down the narrow hallway to the other bedrooms. It wasn't a part of the house I spent much time in, but it served my purpose now. I went to the farthest bedroom, there were two down this hall, and carefully let myself in, then went to the closet before opening the phone._

_I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Adriano didn't have his phone locked. A man like him never thought he needed security on something as mundane as a mobile device. He probably thought no one would dare touch something belonging to him._

_I'd memorized Luca's number long ago, and hoped he would answer the unfamiliar number. It rang. Once, twice. On the third ring, I felt panic stir in my chest. Just before the fourth, and final, ring, he answered._

"_Favino." He answered with his last name, the way he always answered his phone with strangers._

"_Luca," I whispered, stifling a sob of relief._

_There was a brief moment of hesitation. Perhaps Adriano had threatened him. "Camila, what is it?"_

"_I need you to help me." My voice trembled and I took a deep breath. "He's trapped me here. He's going to kill me."_

_His voice lowered slightly as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. "Where?"_

"_In the house. Please. He's sleeping, but he'll wake soon. He's run out of patience."_

_There was another brief pause, then he said, "Okay, I'm coming."_

"_Hurry."_

_We hung up. My lifeline. For one moment, I'd felt calm, peaceful. I felt like everything would be okay. Letting go of the connection brought a trepidation that was beyond the physical. My breaths were shallow, heart hammering in my chest, ears pounding from the pressure, and mind racing with hundreds of wild 'what if' thoughts._

_I shook my head and let myself out of the closet, then out of the room. After shutting the door, I turned and nearly ran into Adriano. I screamed, unable to stop the overload of terror rushing through my brain._

_Adriano grabbed my neck and raised his fist. He alternated between hitting and choking me. The phone clattered to the floor, but he didn't stop. When he started talking, he emphasized his words with blows to my body: head, stomach, chest, face, everywhere._

"_I. Gave. You. Everything. I. Loved. You." He took a deep breath, then choked me with both hands. I struggled for air, beating at his wrists with my hands. I had to survive. Luca was coming. I had to make it for him. For us._

"_You have always lied. To me. To Giuseppe. And no doubt that bastard, Luca, too."_

_I shook my head, my eyes pleading. _

"_Oh yes. That little bastard. I'm sure you've noticed that he looks nothing like his father. I've seen the pictures. You had a lover back then. You had a lover with me. You are not worth the air you breathe." I didn't know about a lover. I didn't remember my life with Teo before my tumor. Was Adriano right?_

_Everything went fuzzy. I couldn't see him, and I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of black. Then he let go and I gulped in air, falling to my knees, weak. Adriano was not finished with me. He grabbed my arm, twisting it up behind my back, the other hand in my hair, and he stood me up, shoving me down the hallway, out to the living room, then the kitchen._

_He didn't stop there. Outside, the afternoon sun was bright, blinding me. We reached the pool and he threw me to the ground. I lifted my head, but his hand was in my hair again._

_Water, cold and clear, flooded my eyes, mouth, ears, and nose. I pushed against the stone edge of the pool, trying to lift my head, but he held me under. My lungs burned, my heart screamed. I thought he'd pull me up again, prolong the torture, but he held me steady._

_I struggled. Luca was coming. I had to survive._

_Adriano shoved his knee onto my back, pressing his weight onto me, pushing out the last of my air. Bubbles fizzled around my head; then my lungs, empty and needy, began to convulse, trying to suck in a breath. I held my mouth and nose closed. I didn't want to take in the water._

_At some point, I realized I was fighting only in my head. I was too weak to resist Adriano's physical strength. I wanted to cry. Emotion, raw and painful, ripped a hole in my heart. Luca was coming. He would find me drowned._

_I sobbed, the water came in, but it didn't hurt like I thought. It felt like a part of me, as if we were one. I closed my eyes and let myself go, thinking one final thought: Luca._

…

The slapping annoyed me more than anything, even the annoying voice saying, "Stephanie, wake up" over and over again.

"Her eyelids are fluttering," Marco said.

"Ugh," I groaned. Dizzy was an understatement for how I felt.

Walker checked my pulse. I recognized the feel of his hold by now. Long, muscular fingers, gently gripping my wrist. "Careful, don't sit up. You hit your head on the table during the episode."

I gulped down the nausea his words induced and sighed. "You didn't think to move it?"

"Not until after you hit your head. You don't normally thrash around like that."

My lips pursed. "There's always a first time with me."

"I'm learning that."

I heard someone pacing. Marco. "_Shit_!" Walker glanced up at him, briefly. He said, "_Shit_!" again. I began to realize that Marco switched to Italian when he was really upset. "_How could you so calmly watch her go through that? This has to stop, it can't be good for her!_"

Walker looked up at Marco. "I don't like it, either, but it'd be worse to interfere with the process."

"You caused it!"

Ignoring Marco's outburst, Walker let go of my wrist and pressed a stethoscope to my chest. It was slightly cold, but didn't bother me much. I felt slightly overheated, as if I'd been on a light jog. "Warm," I said.

"I'm not surprised," Walker murmured. "You had quite the battle going on."

I looked at him through slitted eyes. "That bad, huh?"

"Bad enough."

I closed my eyes tight and sighed. "Damn you, Walker. That was a nasty trick."

He brushed my hair back from my forehead and said, "I thought it would be more effective if you didn't know when to expect it."

I grunted and squeezed my eyes tighter. The nausea was coming back again, so I opened them a little to find an anchor point that would hopefully stop the swimming in my head. I looked at Walker and focused on his deep blue eyes.

Marco handed him something white, but I didn't catch it. Then I understood what it was when Walker put a cool cloth to my forehead. He motioned Marco to the floor and they changed spots, Walker heading to the small kitchenette. I made a noise in appreciation of the cold against my skin.

Marco said, "You were calling for Luca." He sounded miserable.

I hesitated. "I wasn't, Camila was."

"Of the day he tried to kill you."

I nodded and looked at him.

He flipped the cloth over. "I wasted too much time doubting when I could have helped you."

At least he felt bad. Since the past couldn't be undone, I'd take that. "Look, how about we just let it go?" He was silent and I continued. "Okay, so you could have helped keep _my _body safe, but Camila was always doomed from the start. She was fabricated, a myth." I could tell by his expression what he wished right then. "You wouldn't want it that way. Wouldn't want a relationship with someone who could never fully be yours, who was stolen from her own life."

"I know." His voice was resigned and he nodded in agreement. "Our relationship never should have been. I broke all of the rules to be with her."

That was a good point. "True." I pushed myself up onto my elbow and balanced easily. The nausea appeared to have passed. "Okay, I'm feeling better now. Can I get up?" I called out to Walker.

"Go for it. Carefully."

Marco reached a hand down to me and helped me up from the floor. I sat down in my chair and leaned my head against the back cushion. Then he sat on the couch near me. The sound of metal clinking against metal came from the kitchen area. We were both silent, listening to the sounds from the kitchen, both lost in our own thoughts.

Suddenly, Marco laughed lightly, barely more than a snort, and I slowly turned my face to look at him with a questioning glance. He shrugged and said, "I've been thinking about you and Camila. I've realized that Camila appealed to me on every level. And while you look just like her, I find you to be too … direct. For my taste. She never would have yelled at me the way you did when I got here."

I laughed, unable to help myself. "And I was worried about how to get you to fall out of love with me." A wave of dizziness cut my laughter short. It must have been some knock on the head I'd given myself. I groaned and then smiled weakly. "I'm glad I _don't _meet with your approval."

A worried look settled on his face. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Not to worry, Marco. No offense taken."

Walker returned with two cups of coffee. "Black," he warned, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Milk and sugar."

He left and returned a few minutes later with my doctored coffee. Then he sat down and said, "Why don't we talk about your dream?"

I told them everything. When I finished, I said, "Then we know Harry took me from the hospital about a week later, and I woke up in Paris." I realized it might be helpful to talk to the doctors who treated me. "Marco, do you think you could get us the names of the medical staff that treated me two weeks ago? Specifically, the doctors."

"Yes. I can take you there now, if you'd like. Seppe has given me instructions to help you and Ranger out with anything you need."

I smiled. "He's already talked to you?"

"Called me as soon as you left his home, told me that you would both have questions for me."

Good. That meant we could get everything we needed from him and protect his cover. I looked at Walker. "Do you think talking to the doctors would help?"

"I'd like to go with you, but need to put some notes together. And I'm hungry. I was too busy to eat earlier."

Marco stood. "I can take care of the food, if you like? There's a little restaurant a few blocks away, best sauce in town. Stephanie could help me so you have a few minutes alone. Spaghetti and bread?" Walker nodded. "Twenty minutes tops. Will that give you enough time?"

"Plenty."

The mention of food made my stomach growl. I didn't know if I was so ravenous because I'd been starving in my dream or because I hadn't had a chance to grab dinner, but I was excited about having the best pasta sauce in Rome.

I followed Marco out of the hotel and down the street to a little silver car that looked like a shiny tin can. I arched my brow at Marco and he grinned. "It's very safe. And fast."

"Great." He laughed and opened the passenger door for me.

Thirty minutes later, we parked back at the hotel very close to the same spot where Marco's car had been before. I had a bag with a huge box of spaghetti and a tub of extra sauce I'd insisted upon. It smelled so good I wanted to sing the Italian National Anthem. Brothers of Italy, Italy has awoken! Then I realized I knew the words and shook my head. Freaky.

Marco carried the large bag to the side door and I searched through my bag for my key card. I finally remembered it was in my back pocket and rolled my eyes, pulling it out. We both laughed and I stopped short when I saw him freeze and drop the bag, reaching inside his sport jacket. I started to ask him what was wrong, when two very strong arms grabbed me from behind and a black cloth bag was pulled over my head.

There were two sickening thuds and I realized someone had hit Marco, hard. I screamed and a strong hand covered my mouth. I bit the hand, the man swore in Italian, and then something heavy hit me on the back of the head, knocking me out.


	21. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Sorry it's so late at night for this chapter. I hope those of you who celebrate it had a happy Thanksgiving! It's already been a long weekend here! :)_

_Quick Note: Just a reminder that Italian is still marked with italics since I don't speak it. :)_

…

Chapter 21

It was pitch black when I woke. Or I thought it was until I felt the cloth against my face. The bag. The back of my head pounded out the rhythm of my pulse and my mouth was dry from sleeping open-mouthed inside the hot material. I closed it to try to work up some saliva to wet my tongue with no luck.

"Ugh." Cotton mouth. Not fun.

"Shh." The sound came from my left.

"Marco?" I whispered.

"_Sí_, don't speak. I'm trying to free my hands. If they know we're awake …" His whisper was hard to distinguish through the bag, but I understood him and clamped my mouth shut. No talking.

A metallic clang resounded throughout the space where we were. It sounded very large and empty. A warehouse? The echo seemed endless. Metal wrenched against metal and then there was a heavy rolling sound, as if something large was being moved on wheels.

I held my breath, terrified. I hated not being able to see where I was and felt the claustrophobia closing in around me. I gave myself a little pep talk to remember that I wasn't in a casket or a little cupboard. It was a _big _room with lots of air. I sucked in a breath and the cloth followed the air into my mouth. I pushed it out with my tongue in a panic. Breathe in slowly. Breathe out slowly. I chanted repeatedly, breathing with my own instructions.

"Almost there," Marco whispered lightly.

Breathe in slowly. Breathe out slowly. I could do it. I would not panic; would not scream. In. Out. My heart lurched and then thudded when I heard something slide against the cement floor. I squeezed my eyes shut tight so I couldn't see that I couldn't see. Reverse psychology. I could shrink myself. Who needed Walker?

"_I'm sorry, Luca_," a voice said from very close to my right ear. "_Or should I say Marco? I don't think you will get your hands free after all_."

I went completely still and the blood ran cold as ice in my veins. Holy crap. Adriano.

A thousand things run through a person's mind when they think they are about to die. The crazy thing is that I wasn't thinking about dying. I decided, instead, to be pissed that we'd dropped the pasta and the incredible smelling sauce. It was probably open and running down the sidewalk. How unfair life could be.

I may have been in denial a little bit. Food was a pleasant thought, even wasted food. It kept me from thinking about the implications of being tied up with a bag over my head and Adriano walking around free. It kept me from thinking about Ranger receiving a frantic call from Walker that Marco and I went to get food and never returned. It kept me from thinking about Tank and Lester looking for clues and finding the spilled bag of pasta and no us.

Worst of all, once my denial ran out, I suddenly started thinking about the things I'd been avoiding and wondered if they'd actually bury _my _body under the headstone in Trenton and remove the imposter body. I shuddered. A little too close to home right now.

I knew Adriano's goal was to kill me. He'd told Camila that if she ever left him, he'd kill her. He'd tried once. This time he could just do it. Ranger didn't know where I was or how to find me. Marco was incapacitated at the moment. No one could stop him. Another shiver ran down my spine. Yep, a little too close to home.

"_Don't you have anything to say to me?_" he taunted. I figured he was speaking to me.

"_This warehouse is a little cliché, don't you think? I thought you were more creative than that._"

I muttered a low 'oof' when he backhanded me across my right cheek. Damn, why did they always hit _that _bone? I took a deep breath and shook my head slightly.

Marco hissed in air through his teeth. "_Only a coward hits a defenseless woman_."

"_If you don't shut up, I'll hit her again._" There was silence and I guessed the two men were staring each other down. After a minute, Adriano's voice turned back my way. "_This isn't a warehouse_." He sounded amused, which I never took as a good sign from any psycho, but knew from my dream-memories that it was bad, bad news with Adriano. "_But it _is _cliché for the sidekick to die right about now. So…_"

There were two loud 'pops' and Marco slumped against me. The scream started in my toes and worked its way slowly up my body to my mouth. By the time I actually let it out, I felt like I'd been screaming for a while. Adriano backhanded me again in the same spot. Son of a bitch! I wanted to tell him to pick a new spot, but then I was afraid he would.

I stopped screaming, but this strange whimpering sound prevailed. Adriano said, "_Shut up_."

I closed my mouth as tight as I could and breathed heavily through my nose. Deep breath in, quick breath out. I did this several times until I thought I could keep it together. No thinking about Marco.

The bag came off and Adriano was crouched in front of me, larger than life. His cold smile looked exactly as I had seen it in all of the flashbacks. I wanted to smack it off his face. He stared at me and then scowled at my defiant look. I couldn't help the defiance. I was born and raised in Jersey. It's part of a Jersey girl's makeup arsenal.

Adriano smirked and patted my cheek. I jerked back, smacking my head on the hard wall behind me. He stood up and said, "_I'll be back in a few moments, try not to hurt yourself_."

He walked across the huge room and disappeared through a large steel door. I looked around and realized I was in a large open loft. Unfinished with large, airy windows that no doubt afforded an incredible view of the city. I could see a kitchen on the left side. Large, with a center island and bar seating that separated the living space from the cooking space. The kitchen was finished, very expensively. Granite countertops, real wood cabinets, carved in intricate designs, all the way to the ceiling which was probably twelve feet high, maybe fifteen. It was hard to tell sitting down.

I took a deep breath and bit my lips together before looking at Marco. Studying the room had been a good way to delay looking at a dead man. He lay on his side, hands still tied behind him. He didn't move and I didn't see any breathing.

"Marco," I whispered. "Marco!" Louder this time. There was no movement from him. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked furiously and looked away from him. As long as I didn't see any blood, I could believe he was fine. Adriano could have missed. Anything was possible.

The door opened and Adriano stepped through. He took out a key and locked the door, pocketing the key afterward. "_Get up, Camila. Come over to the kitchen._"

This guy was a few Oreos short of a whole pack. I stayed still, my eyes on him.

He made an impatient hand gesture and then crossed the large floor swiftly, his loafers clicking on the cement floor. When he reached me, he bent down and grabbed my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes up to meet his. "_I said get. up._"

I blinked in surprise. "_You wanted _me_ to get up_?" His eyes narrowed, but I continued anyway. "_Because, I thought you told someone named Camila to get up_."

He growled like a pissed off Rottweiler and grabbed me around the upper arm, yanked me to my feet, and marched me across the floor to the kitchen. He threw me to the floor and, since my hands were behind my back, I couldn't stop my momentum and fell on the same cheek he'd struck twice. I bit my teeth together, refusing to groan or show pain. It took a whole lot of effort, but I got myself rolled over on to my back and struggled to a sitting position.

Adriano reached across the counter and drew a knife from the knife block near the stove. He took a step near me and I leaned away from him. He took another step and my heart beat a wild staccato against my rib cage. He bent down and leaned toward me. I hoped getting stabbed didn't hurt as bad as getting shot or burned with a poker, because if it did, I was screwed.

What he did surprised me and drew a wild yelp from me. He reached behind me and grabbed the ropes around my wrists, lifted them straight up, stretching my shoulder muscles to the very limit, and sliced the ropes, freeing my hands. Quick as lightning, though, he squatted back down in my face, the knife tip held against my nose. "_Scream again, and I'll start removing parts and I'll start with this one_."

He really didn't want me to scream. It made me wonder what was below the loft. The window revealed a dusky sky, so it was most likely after office hours. Were we in a residential building?

Adriano stood and slid the knife back into the block. He slid his hands into his pockets casually, and said, "_Get up._"

I reached up and grabbed the towel rack on the front of the oven with one hand, pulling myself upward and wincing at the pain in the top of my shoulders and the front of my arms. When I was standing, I looked at him and waited.

He looked at the Espresso machine. It was in the same place he'd kept it in his house. Beside the sink, pushed back against the wall. I looked back at him. "_Fancy coffee maker._"

He backhanded me. Same cheekbone. It brought tears to my eyes and made the whole right side of my face throb. The skin had split this time. I only knew because I saw blood on his knuckles. I didn't actually feel it happen, thank God for small favors.

Keeping up with the charade, I crossed my arms and said, "_I don't know why you're angry. I don't know what you want from me._"

He stepped very close to me, hands on my shoulders to keep me steady. "_Are you trying to tell me you don't remember how to make espresso_?"

What the hell was it with this dude and espresso? "_No, no espresso. Not even coffee._" Okay, so that was a lie. Stephanie Plum _could _make coffee. Not espresso.

He leaned in until our noses touched. "_You're a very bad liar._" I took offense at that line. I'd always been a very convincing liar. "_Make the espresso._"

With shaking hands, I turned to the machine and pulled it forward. I prepared it and pulled out the parts I needed. I measured the water and poured it into the machine and gripped the portafilter. Beans. Where were the beans? I pulled a canister forward and took off the lid. Empty. I checked another. Empty.

My hands began to shake. I didn't remember where he kept the beans. They'd always magically been there in my dreams. What a time for them to fail me.

Sighing, Adriano opened the cupboard above the espresso machine and lifted out a large, ceramic canister with a stainless steel lid. "_Always in the cupboard,_" he said.

"_Right_." I reached for the grinder and measured the beans, pouring them in and grinding them to fine powder. The process was usually fairly quick in my dreams, but my hands were shaking with such violence, I thought I was lucky that I didn't spill anything, yet.

"_You're very different from her,_" Adriano said quietly.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I said, "_I'm not her._"

He traced a finger up my arm while I switched on the machine. Instinctively, I knew he was trying to make me piss him off, so I held still, but I wanted to pick up the heavy machine and clock him with it.

"_It's too bad_," he said quietly. "_You're still an attractive woman, even with the contemptuous attitude_."

I'd show him contemptuous. And then an idea so horrible popped into my head that I had no choice but to try it. When the espresso started to pour out into the carafe, I pressed my fingertips into the counter to keep my hands from shaking. If he was going to kill me, then I had to try to run.

The brew cycle finished and I opened the cupboard to the left of the beans and, sure enough, espresso cups. I took one down and picked up the carafe, turning to face Adriano. I began to pour the beverage into the small cup, but when it had barely dribbled out, I threw the rest into his face.

He screamed, covering his face with his hands, then removing one to grab for me. I jumped back and grabbed a heavy iron skillet from the rack over the island and swung it as hard as I could, smacking him in the side of the head. He bent down, groaned, and then growled, so I raised the pan over my head and smacked him over the back of the head. The thud it made was sickening. Adriano went down, silent.

I nudged him with my foot and he didn't stir, so I reached into his pants pocket and grabbed the key, hurdled the unconscious man, and ran to the door. I stopped short, key outstretched toward the lock, my eyes flying to Marco. He hadn't moved. I felt like a traitor as I unlocked the door, but if I was going to help either of us, I had to leave in case Adriano woke. I only hoped Marco would understand. If he was still alive.

I barely noticed the stairs and seemingly flew down to the first landing, turning, and flying down the next. A door leading outside was at the base of this staircase and I shoved my way through it, running hard down the alley. I charged out from between the two buildings and saw a man walking down the sidewalk to my right. He turned as I approached and I gasped out, "_I need to call the police, do you have a mobile phone?_"

"_Yes_," he answered. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and then I felt a pinprick in my arm and blacked out completely.

…

My throbbing cheek woke me. Actually, the person slapping my throbbing cheek woke me. I jerked away from the hand and a harder slap tore me painfully away from sleep. My eyes popped open and I sucked in a breath of air.

"_Surprised to see me?_" Adriano asked.

I gaped. He looked terrible. Half of his face was flaming red and puffy from the scalding shower I'd given him. There was a large bandage on the back of his head and a huge bruise on the side by his ear. Oh boy, he did not look happy, either.

His smile was nasty, evil. It didn't reach his eyes and scared me all the way to my toes. My spirit completely deflated. The guy with the phone was one of Adriano's men. The damn dreams had failed me on that point. I wanted to smack my forehead, but didn't want Adriano to know how stupid I felt. It didn't matter anyway, because I couldn't move.

I wiggled my fingers and looked down, ignoring the big tha-wump of my heart when I realized I was naked on a metal table, strapped in with leather straps. The view sparked my senses, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

I looked around and noticed we weren't in the same room as before. This one was even more unfinished than the other. The walls were still in their skeleton stage and there was metal scaffolding erected on the far end under a window that looked recently installed and not completely finished, yet.

Adriano's hand trailed down my leg from my upper thigh to my knee, giving it a squeeze. In a calm voice, he said, "_I expect you to answer when I ask a question. Are you surprised to see me?_"

Deciding a little honesty couldn't hurt, I said, "_I was distracted by your appearance, but no. In answer to your question, not much can surprise me at this point._"

"_Such a tough girl_." He looked over to the corner of the room and I heard the squeaky wheels of a cart start to turn and move closer. I craned my neck and saw a thin man, looking very nervous, wheeling a strange machine toward me. There were buttons and levers all over the surface. Near the top were gauges and digital screens, but they were blank, probably because the machine wasn't on. Coming out from the side were what held most of my attention.

There were three, thick spiral wires in bright blue, red, and green. At the end of the blue and green wires were long probes with very sharp, pointy ends. The red wire had a tiny needle at the end. I held my breath and swallowed hard so I wouldn't throw up. I didn't like any objects with sharp points and the two big ones looked very painful.

Adriano motioned impatiently to the man and said, "_This is Dr. Spreng. He's going to get Camila for us._"

Get. Camila. I stared at Adriano. "_I don't understand._"

He chuckled without humor. "_Oh, come now. You know you didn't just suddenly wake up as her one day. Someone had to help with that._" He raised a hand in display toward Dr. Spreng. "_Here he is: the one who created Camila._"

Created? I looked at Dr. Spreng, but he didn't look up at me. He was busy with the machine, which was now running, twisting knobs and sterilizing the pointy things with alcohol swabs. Then the full weight of Adriano's words broke through my confusion.

"_Would you be willing to explain?_"

Adriano stared at me for a minute and then patted the top of the machine. "_This machine emits an electric pulse to an area of the brain where the good doctor directs it. Once the pulse hits the right spot and the correct frequency, he can speak to you, tell your mind exactly what to believe, what to think. It certainly redefines the term artificial intelligence, wouldn't you say?_"

It certainly explained how I'd been able to carry a baby to term without him having any apparent side effects. Unlikely if a drug had been used. I know Walker and Ranger had discussed the issue, but I hadn't heard all of the theories. I wonder how close they'd gotten.

I realized something else right then. "_You were in on this whole thing?_"

The doctor glanced up at me and then at Adriano before busying himself with the wires and buttons on the machine. Adriano sat in a high stool near my bedside. "_No, it was Harry's doing. I didn't learn of his scheme until you gave birth to that bastard._"

"_What do you mean?_"

His face twisted in disgust. "_Can you imagine what a shock it was to have my delirious wife call out to a man I'd never heard before?_" He raised his voice to mimic a feminine whine, "_Ranger. Ranger, I need you_."

Shit. Not only had I called out to him when I was with Marco, but I'd unknowingly given myself away, most likely when under the influence of pain medication. "_How did you find out who he was?_"

"_I went to the only man who knew your history._" Harry. "_The look on his face when I told him what happened was priceless._"

"_Why did Harry do this in the first place?_"

Adriano shrugged. "_I didn't ask specifics, but I believe Harry needed you out of the way. What better way to do that than to make you forget who you were?_"

"_Why didn't you turn him in to Seppe?_"

He watched the doctor work the machine and his eyes sharpened, glittering with some inner secret. He looked back at me. "_Power. I know his big secret, I own him._"

That I could easily believe. I remembered another memory from my dreams and decided it couldn't hurt to ask him about it. "_Why did you accuse Camila of having an affair on her previous fiancé if you knew it wasn't true?_"

He shrugged. "_I had to stay in character. It was easier to control her when she was off balance. As long as she felt unworthy, she would stay with me. Interesting how she loved that bastard, but didn't have enough confidence in his love to walk away from me for him._"

"_You hardly gave her a choice._"

Adriano smiled. "_Ah, yes. The boy. Another insurance policy_."

"_It's ready,_" the doctor said.

"_Wait,_" I said. "_Why did you kill my baby? You knew the truth, how could you? Was I … did Camila get pregnant?_"

Adriano ignored me and nodded at the doctor. "_Begin._"

"_Adriano_."

He looked at me, but only answered one question. "_No, she never got pregnant_."

I wanted desperately for him to tell me about Carlo, but knew he wouldn't. I was also relieved to know there hadn't been a pregnancy, either from Marco or Adriano, but now I had a more pressing concern. "_If you're just going to kill me, why change me into Camila?_" Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.

"_Because, I want her to know. I want her to break before I kill her._" Anger management issues. What a psycho.

The doctor walked over to me, wearing gloves, and I forgot about Adriano's crazy mind. Shit! I didn't want this. He reached for my head and I jerked it out of his reach.

Adriano stood and said, "_I can make it very painful for you if you cause problems. Hold still, this is your only warning._" He picked up the knife he'd used earlier from the set in the kitchen. It had been laying on the edge of the cart. He laid the blade crosswise over my pinkie. His meaning was clear.

I held still, keeping my eye on Adriano's knife while the doctor worked on my head. He took several small, shiny metal pin-like objects and slid them into the veins at my temple, on my crown, and the base of my skull. I winced at the pricks, but otherwise they were shallow and didn't hurt afterward. At one point he said to Adriano, "_Her head should be shaved for this._"

Adriano made an impatient gesture. "_What does it matter_?"

The doctor hesitated, possibly calculating whether or not it was wise to challenge Adriano in his current mood, and then said, "_I'll be able to see that I'm placing them in the right spots without any … interference._"

"_We're running out of time. Just bring her back!_" Adriano barked and the doctor never said another word.

I shuddered. No way did I want my head shaved, my hair was short enough. But his comment made me wonder about the 'tumor' Seppe told us about. If someone messes with a person's head, a person who is perfectly healthy, and shaves it, but doesn't want anyone to know why, a brain tumor is a pretty good cover story. A very good cover story. In a strange way, I was relieved I might not really be sick. Not that it mattered much at this point.

The doctor picked up the small needle on the red wire and tipped my head so my chin was against my chest. I stiffened and Adriano pressed the knife against my knuckle in reminder. I didn't move, but I hissed in a breath when he inserted it into the back of my scalp. He placed at least four more pins in my skull and then declared himself ready.

Adriano moved to the other side of the metal table, taking a seat in a chair I hadn't noticed. The doctor sat on the stool and picked up both of the other long spikey probes in his hands and pressed a red button on the machine. I heard the distinct electrical sound of a current. Zzwerb. And, thanks to Mooner, I knew it sounded a lot like a lightsaber. Thank God for Sci-Fi.

"_What are those for?_" I asked.

The doctor ignored me, reaching up with both probes and touched them to two of the pins on top of my skull. As soon as they touched, a piercing beep filled the room and a shockwave jolted through my brain. The way it felt, I figured that my head lit up like in the cartoons when someone got electrocuted.

Finally, it was over. Adriano slapped me and I realized I'd been screaming. "_Shut up._"

Sweat broke out on every inch of my skin from the horror of what this guy had just done. Aftershocks twitched somewhere just under my skull and my fingers and toes reacted, clenching and unclenching. I could tell the physical twitching was only a reaction and that my body itself wasn't being shocked.

Dr. Spreng adjusted several knobs and pushed a lever up, then turned back to me. I whimpered, my eyes pleading with him. "_Please, don't._" While my body didn't hurt, a headache had begun to form, and I knew this second jolt would be even worse than the first.

The probes touched again in two different spots, the beep sounded, and the shock reverberated through my skull like an electric ping pong ball. My head felt like a light bulb. Everything turned white behind my eyes and, even when the pain stopped, I couldn't see anything but clear, white light. Images flashed briefly, but they were gone so fast I couldn't tell what they were.

I felt flickers of pain now. Quick flutters that were gone before I registered them as such. A low hum buzzed behind my eyes. Pulsing, penetrating. It grew and grew until I was in such agony I cried out, my voice echoing in the void around me. I was floating in nothing, no, I was falling. Fast. The intensity built up until I couldn't stand it any longer and shut down completely, letting go of everything I'd told myself to hold onto.


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: This chapter has a _slightly _AU feel. It is not meant to be AU, but just my attempt to explain what happened._

_Also, it's 12:10 am here, so technically Monday. I thought I'd post this now. Thanks so much for sticking with me everyone!_

…

FromChapter21:

_I felt flickers of pain now. Quick flutters that were gone before I registered them as such. A low hum buzzed behind my eyes. Pulsing, penetrating. It grew and grew until I was in such agony I cried out, my voice echoing in the void around me. I was floating in nothing, no, I was falling. Fast. The intensity built up until I couldn't stand it any longer and shut down completely, letting go of everything I'd told myself to hold onto._

…

Chapter 22

_All was quiet and I realized I was asleep. A deep, scary sleep. The kind you never wake from. I wasn't in a room, more like a strange place. It was stark, surreal, ethereal, and just plain freaky white. Then, from somewhere in front of me, I saw a faint smudge. I squinted, but couldn't make out what it was. I raised my hand to rub at it, but it wasn't something I could physically touch._

_As I watched, the smudge grew and grew until I noticed it was moving. Near the bottom, the white flickered in and out. I stared hard, trying to see what it could be when I realized very clearly that I was staring at legs. Legs walking, step by step, closer and closer to me. I blinked harder and saw arms swinging forward and back. The smudge was a person. A woman._

_The hum pulsed again and suddenly she was standing in front of me. She was me, but different. Camila. I closed my eyes and opened them, but she was still there, staring at me. She held up her hand, but I stepped back. Somehow I knew it was very, _very_ important for me not to touch her._

"_It's my turn," she said. I felt myself weakening as the pulse surged and she seemed to grow brighter. I knew this place wasn't real. Hell, she wasn't real, but somehow here the two of us were. She wasn't expecting any resistance and I was full on ready for a property dispute. My body, my life. Fighting was my only option. _

"No_." I deliberately spoke English. I had to hold onto to me. Stephanie Plum, American. First language, English. _

_She frowned. "But we must." _

_I felt the pulse die down again and felt a surge of strength and straightened my shoulders. "_We can't_."_

_Camila looked upset. "Luca is waiting for me. I have to survive."_

_I felt like laughing and crying all at once. Her last thoughts had stuck with her. I would have thought maybe she would have been a part of me, that her memories would have moved with mine and she'd have understood. That wasn't the case at all. She was stuck in her own experience, her own existence. It was all too strange, but I knew, without a doubt, Camila wasn't as desperate as me and it was time she understood just how it was going to be._

"Adriano is waiting. If you go back, he'll kill you. Kill me_."_

_Her hand faltered, but then rose again as the surge of energy renewed her strength. I held strong against the weakness, willing myself to combat the urge to sleep that suddenly seemed so powerful. "Adriano?"_

"Yes._"_

_Panic filtered through the smooth façade of her face. "I have to go to him if he wants me. It will be worse if I disobey."_

"You don't have to obey him. Seppe is trying to kill him. For hurting you—hurting us. If you go, you give him back all the power_." This woman was starting to annoy me. I wanted to tell her to grow some balls._

_It dawned on me, then, that Camila never had any strength of her own. What little she'd gained had always been me trying to break through and take over. From the start of this whole mess. I didn't remember it exactly, but I felt the old struggle, the feeling that I had to keep trying to get back to myself. I couldn't explain my certainty if someone wanted me to prove it, but I knew I was right. The woman, or strange creation, in front of me was a pawn to be commanded, not a person with real emotions. Those had been mine. Had I been more aware of that life than I thought?_

_I straightened my shoulders and shoved aside the last vestiges of weakness, my resolve gaining strength over the ebb and flow of the pulse. It was time I did a little commanding. "_Camila, you're not going to Adriano_."_

"_I have—"_

"You are _not _going to Adriano. I will, because I can fight him._"_

_Her blue eyes stared at me, unblinking. Then she sighed and said, "_No more Adriano?_" Progress. She spoke in English._

"No more Adriano. You'll never have to deal with him again_."_

"But you?_"_

_I nodded. "_I will. He's a scary guy, but I can do this_."_

_She sat down, criss-crossed her legs, and stared into the vast sea of white nothing. A tear slid down her cheek from the corner of her eye. "_Okay. Thank you._" She looked at me and nodded, accepting the inevitable. "_But…_"_

"What?_"_

"Perhaps I can still help_."_

_I narrowed my eyes slightly._

"My memories. I'll remember for you, for both of us. You'll know what he wants. It's all I have left to give_."_

_Relief came out in a long, slow breath. Without touching her—because I still thought that was a bad idea—I took a step closer and crouched down until I was at her eye level. "_Thank you_."_

_She nodded and stood. A small smile graced her face. She looked gentle, serene. I fought to keep myself from shaking my head. Those were two words I'd never have attributed to myself, and yet, she'd made _my face _look very convincing at both. I raised myself up to standing again and watched her walk away from me, fading into the white as if she were a part of it. I took a deep breath and looked around. Now how the hell did I get out of here?_

…

Sometimes when you wake up, everything happens at once. When I woke, I realized, first, that I was Stephanie Plum and Camila was gone for good. Next, I noticed that the pain was gone—thank God!— as well as the probes and wires. This was it. Adriano was here, waiting to kill Camila.

I breathed in and out a few times to prepare myself for the confrontation, and then I opened my eyes to see Adriano leaning very close to me, scrutinizing me. Instinctively, I knew he had to believe I was Camila. I pulled out my own blank face, the Camila one, from somewhere in the depths of my ass and plastered it on my face to greet him.

"_Hello, Adriano._"

He stared for a second longer and then broke out into the familiar condescending grin. "_Hello, Camila. How are you?_"

"_Sore and stiff. What happened? Why am I on this table?_" The words came from inside me. I didn't know if I'd had enough dreams of these nice chats or if Camila was guiding me, but right now, I believed the latter was true.

His eyes turned hard. "_You escaped death, but you won't this time._"

I kept my face calm while trying to look completely intimidated and defeated. "_I've disappointed you._"

Adriano sat on the edge of the table and started to unbuckle the strap over my chest, letting his fingers graze my breasts. I clamped down on my disgust and forced myself to keep my reactions at bay. I had to _be _Camila to convince him. "_We'll see if you can make it up to me._"

There was no way I was going to make anything up to this guy, but I needed to be free in order to get away from him for good. Adriano looked up at the doctor. "_Leave us. Ronaldo will drive you home_." I really hoped Ronaldo was cell phone guy because, if not, that meant there was someone else lurking around here.

Dr. Spreng turned to the machine and started to pack it up and Adriano barked, "_I said leave us. You'll get your precious machine back. I'm impatient to finish this._"

Clearly shaken and afraid, the doctor dropped everything onto the cart and walked briskly toward the door, slipping through and shutting it behind him. Adriano finished unbuckling me and then helped me stand. I wanted to cover myself, but knew he'd get angry. I needed him calm. Besides, if he started his abusive crap, I couldn't be sure I'd hold onto my temper and I'd blow my own cover.

He looked at me for a minute, eyes lingering over my most self-conscious areas, and then he turned and walked to a door on the wall to my left. It was a closet, and inside, a single dress hung. Blood red. Great.

"_Put this on._"

I looked at the dress, then glanced at him and slipped the dress off the hanger, pulling it over my head. I looked down to arrange it over my body, trying to hide the fact that I was naked beneath it, and then up to await his instructions.

"_Good. Come to the kitchen._"

He led me through the door the doctor had used and out to the large great room. Everything was the same, except Marco was gone. I felt a pang in my chest, but shoved it aside. We'd have to find his body later. I had to get through this. Ranger wasn't going to lose me twice. I wasn't going to let this bastard win.

"_What is this place, Adriano?_"

"_It is a place I bought for us when you agreed to marry me._"

What a liar, I thought. "_Oh. I never knew._"

He turned around, gritting his teeth. "_Did you even care to know, Camila? Or were you too hung up on Luca to notice anything I did for you?_"

Whoa. Wasn't expecting that. I looked down, guessing that he didn't expect a response from me and I was right. He grunted and turned toward the kitchen. When we got to the sink, he gestured toward the espresso machine. What a freak.

I expertly made the blessed drink and truly believe Camila helped me because my hands were steady and I made it as quickly and efficiently as a seasoned barista. I felt pretty proud about it as I poured the hot coffee into a small cup, set it on a saucer, and gently handed it to him. The urge to throw it in his face again was strong and I had to grit my teeth to maintain my calm.

He sipped and smiled, a crazy, scary smile. I knew he was off balance, but the look on his face completely clinched it. "_No one makes this like you, Camila_."

"_Thank you, Adriano._"

He took another sip and said. "_Do you remember the first time we met?_"

Now I knew Camila was helping me, and that we had a real connection since our talk, because a brief flash of the two of us in Seppe's kitchen, which I had never seen as Stephanie, filled my mind. I'd made espresso for him.

"_Yes. I made espresso for you._"

He sipped again. "_I wonder if you know why I want to kill you._"

I met his gaze and said, "_Because I was inconsiderate of your love and treated you as if you were beneath me._" That definitely had not come from me. I felt like I was having an out of body experience and I wasn't sure I really believed in out of body experiences.

He nodded, sipping his espresso. "_You're smart for a woman who acts so stupid._"

My head lowered, eyes on the floor, I said, "_I'm sorry I never returned your feelings. I tried._"

"_You never tried! What you tried to do was see your lover any chance you got. I knew on New Year's Eve everything had changed. I wanted to be everything to you, I tried to be. You kissed him and never looked at me the same again. You didn't try to do anything but forget me_."

I shook my head. "_It's not true. You were never pleased with anything I did. Always trying to improve me from the start. Trying to make me act the way you thought I should act. Later, insulting me, telling me I needed to be healthier, criticizing my child. I could never match up to your ideal woman, Adriano._"

He walked close to me and circled my neck with his long fingers, pressing inward enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to hurt. Yet. "_Because it didn't matter what I did, you would never want me the way you wanted him._"

"_No. I never would have looked at him if you'd just been nice to me. You demanded and spoke harshly when I didn't meet your expectations_." I spoke calmly, trying to keep him from losing control. I didn't want him to strangle me.

Adriano released my neck and pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. He pointed it at my heart. "_You'll pay for what you did. I was prepared to love you for life, and you turned your back on me_. _And then, to make matters worse, you denied me the chance to be a father. It was the one good thing I had left to give you_."

The surprises kept coming. Not only had he loved Camila, at least until he'd found out that she wasn't real, but he'd truly wanted to be Carlo's father. And now he wanted Camila dead because he couldn't face the pain she'd caused him? Or was it pride? My mind spun through thought after thought. All I knew was that I wanted my hands on that gun.

Suddenly, I knew how to get his attention. I sank to my knees, and lowered my eyes to the floor, completely submissive. "_Please_," I whispered. "_If you want me to die, I accept that_." I let my voice tremble, hoping his narcissistic mind was too egotistical to suspect my ulterior motive. "_Let me make it right, let me do it for you_." I could see he was going to say no and I rushed on. "_I want to give you one last gift. Something truly worthy of your love_."

The gun lowered and he took a step toward me, holding out his hand. I slipped my hand inside and stood. I was trembling, but I hoped he'd take it as a sign of my weakness and not as the surge of adrenaline pumping through my blood.

He surprised me by putting his arms around me and hugging me against his chest tenderly. A shudder pulsed through him. "_I wish it could be another way, Camila. I can't trust you or let you live. It would burn me._"

"_I know._" I pulled back and looked up into his eyes with enough sincerity to make it believable. He took my shoulders in a gentle grip and turned me, pulling me against his chest, back to front. This time, he raised the gun with his left hand and lifted my right hand, setting the flesh-heated metal in my palm. I wrapped my fingers around the hard steel and took a calming breath, trying to make it sound like a sigh.

I put my left hand around his and he slid it out from under to let me grip the gun with both hands, then placed his hands over mine. Crap, this wouldn't work. I'd been so close to having it all to myself. He pushed our hands up, up, until the gun was pressed against the sensitive skin beneath my chin. The tender way he touched me made me realize he'd told the truth. Perhaps he'd fallen in love with Camila and wanted to keep her, but she'd already given her heart to another man. She certainly hadn't tried to hurt him, but she also hadn't tried to love him. She couldn't.

His lips brushed my ear as he whispered. "_I'll answer one question for you before you die, Camila. What do you want to know?_"

I didn't even have to think about it. "_Why did you kill my son?_"

"_I didn't kill him. He was stolen._" He slid his hands down so they rested on my wrists.

Stolen? "_But who?_"

"_You were allowed only one question, Camila, and it no longer matters. Do it now._" He dropped his hands away and rested them lightly on top of my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my hair.

It was my chance. I whirled around, fast, gun aimed straight at his heart, taking a large step back. "Who took my son, you bastard?"

Surprise and then rapid fury crossed his features. "You bitch!" He breathed heavily like a bull exhausted from the game of chase, ready to charge.

"Camila wasn't real, Adriano. But I am. Where is my kid?"

He shook his head, smiling. "No, I won't tell you that." I kept my eyes hard on his face. His muscles tensed and I knew he was going to spring any second.

I braced myself and tried to look tougher than I felt. No matter what he'd done, I was about to shoot to kill and I didn't want to think about it too much. I couldn't afford to hesitate. "I don't need you anyway, Adriano. I've got a real man in my life who's more than capable of finding him. You're obviously more than handicapped in that area." I lowered my eyes to his crotch. "As well as others."

His face grew fierce and he spit when he spoke again. "I'm going to kill you, gun or not." He rushed toward me and I squeezed the trigger. A red stain formed in the center of his chest, but he didn't stop. I was too shocked to shoot again. He grabbed the gun, twisted it out of my hands. I clawed at him, pushed his hands away from me and locked mind around his wrist, trying to keep him from pointing it at me.

Teeth clenched, he hissed out a breath and groaned, his arms going slack. We fell and the gun went off. Pain arced through my whole body from the impact and then settled in my shoulder. I lay on the floor beneath Adriano who was completely still, a dead weight on top of me.


	23. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Sorry this is late. I had surgery yesterday and I wasn't able to prepare much ahead of time because it was only scheduled a week ago. There are seven chapters left and they WILL be posted before the end of the year, but until I am further in my recovery, I can't promise more than two chapters a week. Next week might be less, but I'll aim for two. I'm sorry about this, but it's a very painful recovery for me and I'm having to type lying down with my laptop because I can't sit up, yet. I wasn't anticipating this much pain, unfortunately. Thanks so much for your patience and continued support. It is a promise that this will be finished by the end of the year. You can count on it._

…

Chapter 23

Fiery pain ripped through my shoulder. I grunted beneath the weight of Adriano's body and shoved with my good hand. He didn't budge. If he was still alive, he was unconscious. Even with two good arms, I didn't think I had the strength to push Adriano off.

I took a deep breath, held it, braced both hands on his shoulders, and shoved him for all I was worth, crying out in pain. A bit panicky, I panted and tried again, yelping when white hot fire shot down my arm.

"Okay," I hissed to myself. "Legs." I drew in another deep breath and held it while hoisting my lower body up. I was able to raise up my hips and twist them, but not without consequence. The pain in my shoulder increased tenfold and I was panting and sweating from the effort.

Adriano slipped to the side, but I needed a break and collapsed back down onto the tile. Now he was fully on my top half and half on my lower half. I gritted my teeth and shoved up again, bouncing to shift him over further and yelling out when the sharp stab of pain hit me again. This time, he shifted over enough that I was able to roll onto my bad shoulder, which hurt like a bitch, and pull my arm out from under him.

It took a minute for me to catch my breath, but I'd done it. All of it. Stopping Adriano in the first place, then getting myself free from him. He'd bought the Camila act. He was so conceited and thought so little of her, that he believed she wanted to kill herself to make him happy. I shook my head. One crazy dude.

I scooted back away from him on my butt and then looked at my shoulder. I could only see a bloody mess and swallowed against bile as it rose in my throat. I would not get sick right now. Then my eye caught a small paring knife on the floor behind me. It was covered in blood. I hadn't seen a knife in his hand, but had Adriano grabbed it and stabbed me? The red stain on my back was spreading, so I knew I needed to get out of here and have it looked at. Good thing I was wearing a red dress and it wasn't strapless. Between the wound on my back and Adriano's blood all over my front, I was sure I looked like a horror movie extra. Crap, I had to change. There was even a trail of blood from his body to my feet from scooting. Yuck.

I moved my foot over and nudged Adriano. He didn't stir. I wanted to make sure he wouldn't come after me no matter what, so I stood up and pushed him over with my foot, using the kitchen island to balance myself.

The stream of blood coming from his chest wound was substantial. His eyes were open, unblinking, his face twisted into an angry scowl. He'd used his last breath to try to kill me. Sobering thought. I shuddered. Taking a life wasn't the best option for me. Ever. If I'd had a choice, I would have chosen a lot of suffering for him instead. Ranger style.

I wanted to get out without getting caught again and started thinking up a plan. Suddenly, the conversation between Adriano and Dr. Spreng jumped out of my memory. Ronaldo, who I hoped was cell-phone guy, was driving him home. He might be returning. Then again, he might think Adriano would kill me and leave. What if he came back to clean up the mess? Had he moved Marco? One thing was crystal clear. I had to get out of here fast and hope there wasn't another guy lurking around somewhere.

I didn't know what Adriano had done with my own clothes or shoes. I got up slowly and ran to the room where he'd had me restrained, ignoring the squishy sound coming from my bare feet, and looked in the closet. Nothing there. I looked around for a trash can and found a trash compactor in the kitchen. Nothing in there, either. I decided to stop wasting time and get the hell out of Dodge, shoes or no.

At the door, I glanced over to the spot where Marco had been, not looking too closely at the wet patch left behind. I wished Adriano hadn't killed him. He was a good man and didn't deserve it, no matter how much he'd pissed me off at first. I'd make sure Ranger notified his superiors of what happened. Hopefully, they'd search and find his body so he could be buried properly. It was all I could do for him now.

I opened the door, but then realized I had nothing to protect myself with, so I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the gun from the floor. Satisfied, I ran back to the door and took the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could with the excruciating pain in my shoulder. When I got to the exit, I stuck my head out carefully and looked around the alley it opened up to. I saw no vehicles or people standing in the immediate area. I slipped outside and walked to the right along the narrow walk toward the front of the building and peered around the corner. Ronaldo wasn't there, but he could return any time, so I decided to skirt around in the opposite direction and avoid the front of the building.

Bushes at the back made the journey difficult, but there was enough space that I could squeeze between Adriano's building and the wall directly behind it. Stones underneath killed my bare feet, but I tried not to shout or mutter as I stepped on them. There'd be bruises for sure and probably some cuts.

When I finally reached the corner, I was relieved that alley was also empty and hobbled to the front corner. I peered around that side and saw an older man walking the opposite direction. Now or never. I turned around and went back in the opposite direction down the alley away from the building. At the next corner, I slipped out onto the cobbled street and walked as quickly as possible on my injured feet. I didn't turn around, but kept my head down and the gun tucked into the flowing skirt of the dress. I pressed onward through my pain and embarrassment over my appearance. So what if someone saw me? What was so bad about a woman with bare feet and blood all over her dress and arms? At least my dress was red. I could feel the stickiness and my skin itched where some of the blood started to dry.

A car approached from the front and passed by. I ignored it, but then I realized it had stopped and now idled at the curb just behind me. A car door opened and a man called out, "_Signora Rubiano?_"

I ignored him. I couldn't be sure who Ronaldo was, or what he looked like. He may not even _be_ cell phone guy. I wasn't going back to that loft. If Adriano was still alive by some miracle, he'd just have to go on to hell without me.

Footsteps running up behind me pumped my fear up to stark panic. I started running, trying to get away. I didn't want to be caught. I didn't want to die. I wanted to find Ranger, get my shoulder fixed, and find our kid. In that order.

"_Mother of God, what happened to her? Signora Rubiano, please stop. I won't hurt you. I'm trying to help_." I recognized the voice, but I didn't know if it was a Stephanie memory or a Camila memory. I couldn't take the chance.

I ran harder, but the footsteps came closer and closer until they ran past and a man stopped in front of me, hands out to grab my good shoulder and my waist on the injured side. "_Signora Rubiano, stop. Let me help._"

A bestial sound rose up in my throat and I twisted away from him, pulling up my gun and noticed there was someone else behind me. Now, trapped between the two men, I turned so the men were at my sides and angled the gun back and forth between them. "_Please, let me go._"

"_Do you remember me? I am Alfredo. I work for The Signore._"

Alfredo. The butler. I really looked at him this time and recognized him immediately. I felt weak with relief, lowering the gun to my side, and said, "_Alfredo. I thought you were someone else._"

"_How did you get here?_" He looked around and I took my first real glance of the area. It wasn't bad in terms of aesthetics. No trash that I could see. Cobbled streets, tall, ancient buildings around me, mostly homes. There were a few people walking and a couple of small groups up ahead.

"_What are you doing here?_" I asked, wary that he'd suddenly showed up right now. I tightened my grip on the gun and got myself ready to raise it up again if necessary.

His companion walked around me and stood next to him. He was expensively dressed in a pair of black Versace jeans and a gray t-shirt with the Versace logo across the chest. I also noticed a silver Rolex on his wrist. Alfredo smiled slightly and motioned to the man. Where Alfredo was short, dark hair, dark eyes, and darker in complexion, this man was taller, lighter, with light hazel eyes and lighter brown hair. "_This is Paulo … my partner. We live close to here_."

I sent Paulo a decent attempt at a smile despite the pain in my cheek. "_Nice to meet you, Paulo._"

His deep voice didn't return my greeting, but said, "_You are in pain, will you allow us to help you?_"

Now that he'd drawn my attention to it, the pain overwhelmed me and I felt dizzy. I tried to answer him, but began weaving on my feet.

"_Let's get her to the car!_" Alfredo said, worried. "_The Signore will be upset if she is injured further_."

Strong arms lifted me up and I was floating with clouds drifting rapidly overhead. I turned my head and looked up at Paulo. "_Thank you._"

"_Rest, signora._"

I did. Fell asleep so hard I didn't know what happened. Voices interrupted my sleep. I felt sharp pain that pulled me from my dreams a few times, but then immediate relief followed and I went back to sleep. When I finally woke, it was to the dual throbbing in my shoulder and cheek. I moaned lightly.

A chair scraped and someone stood beside the very soft bed where I lay.

"Stephanie, it is Seppe. Are you in pain?"

Seppe? I opened one eye and looked at him. "Ranger," I croaked.

Seppe nodded. "I am sorry. I could not reach him at the hotel. I've sent some of my people to look for him, but they have been unsuccessful."

I rattled off Ranger's cell phone number—the old one because I hadn't memorized the new one—and he punched it into his phone. It would go through to Tank, which was nearly as good. "Call that number. His friend will notify him." It didn't occur to me that I was ordering a mafia head honcho around, but he didn't seem to mind, so I didn't worry about it.

"Of course." He turned to someone in the room. "_Phone this number and ask signore Mañoso to come to my home. Tell him we have Stephanie._" Turning back to me, he reached out and took my hand in his. "Now, do you need any medication? Any pain?"

I nodded. "Please, no drugs. I don't want to be out of it. Ranger will have questions for me."

He smiled. "I have questions, too, little one."

"Want to know where I was, right?"

Seppe released my hand and sat in a chair at my bedside. "It would be a good start."

I took a deep breath and settled into the soft pillows under my head. "Adriano kidnapped me and also, uh, Luca." I'd almost said Marco. Somehow my brain was functioning enough not to give up his identity. His cover hadn't been blown, yet, and I didn't want to be the one to blow it. Besides, how would I explain _that _to Seppe?

Fury hardened his features. "Did he try to kill you?"

"He did, but I got him first."

Surprise mixed with pride replaced the anger. "You did? Is that why you had a gun?"

I nodded again. "Shot to the chest." I hesitated a second and said, "He shot Luca."

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know, Seppe. He was on the floor a long time; didn't move. Before I shot Adriano, I noticed he was gone, but I don't know if he got up or if someone moved him."

He nodded. "I wish you did not have to do all of this, but at least you have put that demon to rest. Now you will not worry." I thought about Harry and wrinkled my brow. "And you will not have to worry about Orlando. I will take care of him."

I relaxed and smiled a little, but lifted my head slightly when there was a sharp rap on the doorframe. The man with Seppe's phone poked his head in with an apologetic look. "_I am sorry, sir. Signore Mañoso demands to speak with Stephanie._"

"_Of course._" Seppe took his phone from the man and handed it to me, then turned his head to gaze out the window.

"Ranger."

"What happened?" He was in no-nonsense mode and I knew it was because he was stressed. For Ranger, that meant he sounded incredibly pissed off. Good thing I knew him so well.

"Got a few minutes?" I relayed the story of what had happened from the time of the kidnapping up until I woke here in Seppe's house. I told him I thought 'Luca' was dead and he asked me to give my condolences to Seppe, but his tone suggested he'd handle the information on his end. Since we didn't know how secure the call was it was all we could say about it for now.

"You're okay?"

"Oh, you know me. A little bumped and bruised, but still kicking. How long were we gone?"

His voice sounded constricted when he answered. "Nearly six hours. I'm on my way, be there in twenty."

That sounded about right given the fact that I didn't know how long I'd been out after the guy injected me and how long I'd been out here since arriving at Seppe's. I hadn't noticed the time of day earlier when I ran into Paulo and Alfredo. "See you soon."

"Love you, babe." He hung up and I hadn't been able to tell him I loved him, too, but I knew he knew it. It was nice to hear him say it when he didn't have to.

I handed the phone back to Seppe. "He says he'll be here in twenty minutes."

Seppe raised an eyebrow. "That is an ambitious goal."

I smiled fully and groaned at the pain it caused. "He'll make it."

"No doubt." He stood up and gave my hand a squeeze. Then he helped me swallow a couple of pills that had magically appeared since I'd been on the phone. He promised they wouldn't make me sleepy, but would help with the pain and I nodded. When I was settled into the bed again, he said, "Rest. I will bring him here when he arrives."

"Thank you, Seppe." I yawned and leaned my head back, falling to sleep immediately. Recovery always knocked me out, even without drugs.

…

Lips on my forehead tugged me out of sleep and I opened my eyes and met Ranger's. He looked angry, worried, and happy to see me. "Rough day," he said. He ghosted his fingers over my battered cheek and then stroked my hair, clenching his fist in it gently.

"Yeah." I couldn't say anymore because my throat closed up. I closed my eyes so he wouldn't see the rush of tears invoked by emotional overload. The time with Adriano had been difficult, but my underlying worry had been over Ranger. Finding me gone _again_ without a trace would have been a hard pill to swallow. I imagined the reason Seppe's men couldn't find him was because he was out interviewing everyone he could find to get information. Personally and passionately. I hoped there were no unnecessary broken bones here in Italy because of me.

When I thought I was under control, I looked up at him and nearly lost it again at the expression on his face. A quick glance at the room showed me we were alone. He leaned down and touched his forehead to mine, leaning on arms propped on either side of my head to keep the weight of his body off me. "I lost control today."

I reached up with my good arm and traced my fingers over his cheek. "Quite the admission."

"Stephanie." Yikes, serious discussion. "I've already said I'm not impenetrable."

I bit my lip and nodded.

He pulled back and looked at me steadily. "I told you before that I need you to be safe." His eyes closed briefly in a moment of struggle, and I loved him even more for showing it, if possible. "It's goes beyond that now."

My heart broke at the raw edge to his voice, for all he'd gone through over me, past and present. I kept silent because I didn't want to interrupt him. This sharing thing was new and I didn't want to break the spell.

"Starting over isn't an option any longer. You're the part of me I can't shut off."

"God, I'm so sorry, Ranger—"

He kissed me gently, interrupting my words. "I'm going to need permanent options to find you going forward. This can't happen again."

"Okay." He looked into my eyes, staring, seeing that I meant it. Whatever I had to do to make him feel secure about my safety, I'd do. I trusted him to let me have my independence, too. "You know me, I just want a say in what we do."

"Always." We kissed then. He slid his arm under my good side and lifted me, balancing both of us with one hand on the bed. This was as close to clinging as Ranger could ever come. His breathing grew erratic and he broke off the kiss, burying his face in my neck.

"Fuck," he said. I felt him tremble and his hand dug into my back, not painful, but enough pressure to know he was fighting something deep inside. "Forget what I said. You're not leaving my side for the next ten months." One for each I'd been gone.

He lowered his voice so only my ears could hear his next words. "It's probably a good thing I don't have to deal with Marco." Probably. He'd never handled it well when one of his men lost me and there had still been animosity between the two of them. Hearing his name made me sad. Ranger felt the shift in my mood and pulled back enough to look at me. He whispered, "They're searching for him. Will call me if they find anything."

I nodded. "Thank you."

There was a knock on the door, a quick, quiet staccato against the wood.

"Come in," I called.

Seppe cracked the door open and looked in before entering. "You slept like the dead."

I gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, sleep has never been a problem for me."

Ranger sat up and took my hand to allow Seppe room to speak with me.

"I never asked before. Did you call a doctor to come fix my shoulder?"

He smiled. "No, Paulo is a doctor. He cleaned and stitched your wound. He also said an X-Ray may be necessary." At my frown, he explained. "Only to be sure the bone and cartilage did not sustain any damage, but he thinks only the flesh was damaged."

"Please tell him I said thank you. Alfredo, too."

"That I will do," he said with a nod.

"We'll stop at the hospital on the way back to the hotel," Ranger said and then shifted so he faced Seppe. "There's something you both should know."

"What?"

He glanced at me and then looked back to Seppe. "She never had a tumor."

"Orlando." At least we didn't have to explain anything.

"Oh, yeah. They used this electronic zapper thing on my brain to make me forget everything."

Slowly, Ranger turned to look at me and Seppe took a step closer. "When did you find out?"

"Today. They did it to me again."

"What?" Ranger sounded exactly how I imagined Death would sound if I met him in a dark alley.

I explained everything to them about the doctor and the machine, that Adriano had learned who I was during my delivery, and what he said about Harry. I didn't go into detail about my conversation with Camila. I'd save that for later when Seppe wasn't around. It'd be hard enough to explain that to people I knew and trusted, let alone someone I'd only met one other time, even if he had a hand in helping me at one of my darkest hours.

"You didn't tell me this on the phone," Ranger said.

"I was a little out of it. Besides, this stuff is easier in person."

He nodded once, accepting my answer and Seppe said, "Right under my own nose." More to himself than to us. I figured Harry was in for a rude awakening. Then he turned to Ranger. "What will you do now?"

"Harry."

"I will be part of that trip." No nonsense.

Ranger gave him a single nod. "Best option."


	24. Chapter 24

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: I'm so sorry that updating took this long. My recovery has been more painful than I thought it'd be. I had some kick ass drugs, but it was frustrating to not be able to do anything but read or watch TV. I've been so bored! Thanks to all of you who sent me well wishes!_

_I'm really HOPING that I'll be able to post chapter 25 by Thursday this week. My plain is 24-25 this week, 26-27 next week, and 28-30 the last week of December. I don't know which days, but I will be done before the first of the year._

…

Chapter 24

One of my happiest moments on this crazy European ride came when I boarded the flight to Newark this morning. Granted, I was still traveling as Giuliana Ramoso, but at least I was going home. Since I technically 'died' in the States, Ranger said it'd be easier to get my official documents reinstated in Trenton.

We were travelling with Seppe in a rented jet. I didn't ask why and I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer because it probably had something to do with weapons. In addition to Ranger, Tank, Lester, Seppe, and I, there were several men in Seppe's employ with us. Walker had dropped us off at the airport.

When I asked why he wasn't coming with us, he said, "Prior commitments." He was flying back to wherever he lived tomorrow to get back to his own life.

Last night, before leaving Seppe's house, I told them both what I'd learned about Carlo and we all agreed the only logical explanation was Harry. Why he'd try to fake my baby's death, we didn't know, but the only real answers would come from him.

On the way back to the hotel, Ranger took me to a hospital to have my shoulder checked out. The x-rays proved the wound was all flesh and it'd take a couple of weeks to heal properly. Considering that Adriano had wanted me dead, I was lucky, but it still didn't feel like _good _luck when I remembered all the details and thought about Marco, too.

We knew nothing. Ranger's contacts at Marco's 'organization'—one Ranger refused to name no matter how many times I asked—still hadn't called with information. I now feared that we'd get a call saying they couldn't find him and we'd never know the answer, or they'd call and say where they found his body. If he was dead, Ranger thought I'd have to give them a statement about what happened. For now, they were happy to keep us out of it and I was glad simply because that would have kept me in Italy even longer. But I wished there was something I could do to help Marco.

At the hotel, I sat and talked with Walker for a long time, explaining about the method used to change my memories and how they'd tried to do it again.

"_Barbaric," he said in disgust. "What kind of people do this?"_

"_Power hungry, desperate, uncaring. Take your pick."_

"_Dr. Spreng, you said? I wish I could talk to him, see the machine. I'll do some of my own searching, but let me know if Harry gives you any information on him."_

"_I will." I hesitated a second and when he looked up from making notes on a little leather bound notepad, I blew out my breath. "There's something else I wanted to tell you." He set the pad down and arched his eyebrow in invitation and I explained about the confrontation Camila and I'd had in my head._

"_Absolutely incredible. I can't believe you were able to see it so clearly. Your mind was able to separate the two personalities and protect itself. I'm shocked, but impressed."_

"_Thank you for coming all this way to help. I know I can be difficult and we didn't get much time to do anything that you intended … but you were here for Ranger and I think he needed that. He trusts you."_

_He looked down and then back up. "I was happy to do it. I know you may not follow my advice, but I'd definitely recommend therapy to follow up on this experience. I can recommend a few people near Trenton." _

_I nodded with a slight smile. "I'll think about it."_

"_What happened is against the odds. You had no therapy, you didn't even know how to get the answers, but your will to survive, to be yourself … I think it says a lot about who you are."_

"_What, stubborn?" I grinned even though my lip started wobbling. Damn it. I hated getting emotional._

"_How about we say 'determined' instead?"_

_I'd laughed, relieving the tension in my emotional center. "Yeah, determined." Laughing again, I'd hugged him and returned to my room and Ranger._

Now, settled against him, I was a bundle of nerves. I tried not to think about everything. My focus was finding Carlo and I was in the mood to kick Harry's ass. Still, now that the time had come, I was worried about so many things.

First, it was still hard to picture myself in the role of mother. I wasn't _that _great with babies, or even older kids. Sure, I liked my niece, Lisa, enough. It's hard to resist the charm of a baby, but generally I think the cuteness is false advertising. They look so innocent, but they take over your life.

Second, what were Ranger and I going to do? We'd sort of had a plan before all this happened, but so many things had changed. I wasn't worried about his feelings for me, but his life was in D.C. and I had family and friends in Trenton who'd thought I was dead. To leave when they just got me back again … how would we work it out?

"What are you thinking about?" Ranger asked.

I blinked up at him in surprise. "You mean you don't know?"

His eyes crinkled at the edges. "Not always."

"Mostly Carlo. And my family."

He kissed the top of my head. "We'll get him and deal with the rest later."

"It's not that. Finding him is a must, but …" I looked at him and he waited for me to continue. "This whole being a…" Okay, it was still weird to say the word 'mother' in reference to myself. "Having a kid. It's just…" I shook my head, unable to find the words.

"I know."

I put my head on his shoulder and squeezed my arms tight around his waist. "I wish we'd had the chance to make a choice to be parents instead of being thrown into it like this. Especially like this."

Ranger was silent for so long, I thought he'd let the topic go, but he kissed my head several minutes later and said, "I wonder if we would have made the choice if it had been up to us."

His words made sense. If I'd had a choice in whether or not to become a parent, I probably would have chickened out and never tried it. As it was, I didn't remember the whole scary pregnancy and giving birth thing. All that was left was the baby himself. The hardest part, but maybe I was ready for the challenge now.

"What if I'm bad at it?" It had been my biggest worry all along and it felt good to say it aloud.

"What if I am?"

I'd never considered the possibility of Ranger being bad at anything. I lifted my head and squinted at him in a 'what are you talking about?' expression.

"Babe, I already have one child I never see. I'm not sure what to say to her when we talk. True, Scrog gave us some common ground, but it's still awkward. My idea of guy time is going to the shooting range." A strange look came into his eye and suddenly, I had ESP.

"Ranger, you're not thinking about a 'kid' shooting range, are you?"

He shrugged. "We have extra space on the second floor in the building."

I sat back, my mouth opened in horror.

His lips twitched. "See, you're already good at it."

My eyes narrowed. "You tricked me."

"Not really. It'd be fun." I punched his arm. "Darts, babe, not bullets."

I quirked my mouth in thought. If it were Albert Kloughn, I'd absolutely forbid it. With Ranger and the guys, perhaps a little respect for gun safety and responsibility was in order. And it gave Ranger something to look forward to. "How about we find him first?"

"Good plan."

"And, Ranger, you _do _realize he's still a _baby_, right?"

"He'll grow."

…

A couple of naps later, we landed in Newark. There was a flurry of activity as bags and 'equipment' were unloaded from the plane and put into the Rangeman SUVs Ranger had waiting for us on the tarmac.

When I stepped off the plane and into Ranger's arms, it was to a chorus of confusion and loud exclamations. Ram was the first to get out a complete sentence.

"What the hell?"

Hal followed. "Tank, is this for real?"

Someone else asked, "Ranger is dating someone who looks like Stephanie Plum?"

"You asshole, Mitch! That _is _Stephanie."

"No fucking way, dude. Did someone say Stephanie?"

We were surrounded. At least eight pairs of hands touched me, voices raised, everyone wanting to know what happened and who'd beaten my face. I winced when someone vigorously shook my hand and Ranger had enough.

"Order!" Ranger said. Without hesitation, the men snapped to attention, though their eyes moved between the two of us.

Lester muttered to himself and shook his head, walking toward the SUVs. I glanced at Ranger and saw he was not happy about it. The other guys, clearly confused, held their positions, but Ram was brave enough to speak.

"Ranger? Are you back?"

Ranger was silent for a beat and then said, "I own this company, Ram." He looked at me. "As you can see, Stephanie is back, _alive_. We'll discuss everything else later."

Alfredo approached our group. "_The Signore is ready._"

Ranger nodded and turned back to the Rangemen. "We're heading back to the office for a meeting with special guests from Italy. Tank will lead. Stephanie has personal business to handle and I'll be with her this afternoon."

The men looked surprised Ranger wasn't taking control, but didn't question him. He was, after all, still their boss. He broke up the mini meeting and the guys piled into available seats in the vehicles. I moved toward one and Ranger held me back. When they pulled away, I saw that his McLaren had been parked behind them, waiting. He'd kept it.

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Tank knows the score. I spoke with Seppe about this during the flight. You have people to see."

"Shouldn't I wait until we handle Harry?"

He shook his head. "Harry's in on this. I'll bet he's banking on the fact that you're going to wake as Stephanie and not remember anything. He'll expect you to come home. We can do everything that needs to be done without tipping him off about the upcoming confrontation or Seppe's involvement."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been feeling guilty about not visiting my parents or my friends. Thinking of friends reminded me. "What about Lula?"

"Tank's telling her when he gets back."

"It's a shame I'll miss _that _conversation."

Ranger full on smiled and opened the passenger door. "Come on, babe." I kissed him quickly and climbed in. God, I wasn't ready for this. Was I?

Shaky nerves coiled in my stomach all the way to my parents' house. When we pulled up in front, my mother's face appeared in the front door, speculative. I knew she couldn't see me through the tinted glass, but I still wondered about her Stephanie radar. Would I be that way with Carlo?

"Ready?"

I stared at my mother. It seemed wrong that Grandma Mazur's lower gray head wasn't next to hers in the glass pane. A wave of sadness swept over me and I lowered my head, biting my teeth together against the strong sweep of emotion. "So strange not to see Grandma standing there." My voice was all wrong, husky and tight.

He pulled me toward him, kissing the top of my head. "I'm sorry, babe."

"You know," I said with a sniff, "I'm glad I took her with me on that vacation, Ranger. It was our last time together. She loved every minute. I know she could be scary, but I can't regret the way she lived." I looked up at him.

There was a smile on his face, a knowing look that made me realize just how clearly he saw me. He said, "Free."

"Yeah, free."

I took a deep breath and grabbed the handle. "Don't get that pained look on your face when I cry. Just pretend I'm smiling, okay?"

He winced slightly and smiled when I smacked his arm. "Okay."

With my hand on the door, I hesitated and looked at him. "She's going to freak when she sees me. And after that, she's going to freak when she realizes how bad my face looks."

"You're beautiful. Alive and bruised is better than the alternative."

"You're right, but her imagination will go crazy. What will I tell her?"

"As much of the truth as you want without giving her any details about Harry."

I nodded. We had to keep a lid on that for now.

He squeezed my hand and I opened the car door, stepping out onto the sidewalk, staring at my mother.

The Burg was a nosy place. I'd always known that, but to see the neighbors' doors open at the same time that my mother stepped out onto her porch amazed me. People I'd known most of my life stepped out onto their porches to stare at me. I was something of a walking miracle since most people weren't resurrected from the dead. Burg etiquette didn't quite cover this situation, apparently.

My mother came down from the porch and then she was running. Little tittering steps on her toes in her low pumps. A tidal wave of emotion slammed into me at the same moment her arms flew around me. I cried and she cried. We weren't an emotional family, but again, we didn't have much experience with this sort of thing. She scolded me through her tears. I wasn't sure what she was saying, but she was happy to see me, that was clear.

I felt Ranger's presence right behind me, a quiet support, and I was thankful he was here. After a few minutes, my mom and I, as if on cue, both laughed, embarrassed. Mom stepped back, wringing her hands slightly.

"Stephanie, I … well, I, uh, don't have a cake."

This made me laugh. Hard. Soon I was bent over at the waist, laughing harder than I ever remembered laughing in my life. My mother laughed, too. We laughed until we cried again.

"Mom," I said with a slight whimper. Unh! Who knew I'd act like such a baby. "It's good to see you. I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what to say. I," she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, I just never believed you were gone." Maybe there was something to the child radar mothers had after all. Though, I wasn't sure I had it, yet … or if I ever would.

She reached up and cupped my good cheek and spoke softly. "Your grandmother never gave up, either. She never believed, not even when it seemed like the evidence proved you were gone." A tear streaked down her cheek. "I knew I'd know in my heart if you were gone and it never felt that way to me." Her face grew stern. "But you have a lot of explaining to do. And I want to know what happened to your face."

I nodded. "I'll explain everything. Let's go inside." The crowd of neighbors on their porches had grown during our exchange.

When we went in, my mother called my father at the cab company and told him to come home immediately. "Lord knows the Burg grapevine was headed his way. I'd rather have him find out in person."

We waited for 'the talk' until my dad got home. Mom made lemonade and brought out a freshly cut fruit tray. I nibbled on some apple and sipped the sweet beverage while she told me about Grandma's illness. Cancer. She'd had it for years and it hadn't been detected and hadn't affected her spunk. I felt guilty that my death drove that away from her and the disease, held dormant by her indomitable spirit, made quick work of her aged, frail body. It had been a complete surprise to our family, but at least she'd hardly suffered at all. Physically. I was grateful for that.

When dad came in, he stopped in the foyer, staring. I rose from the couch and said hi. The edges of his eyes turned red and he 'harrumphed' then crossed the room, pulling me into a tight hug, and asked where I'd been and what happened to my face. It was hard to see him giving off that depth of emotion. He was a 'kiss your cheek' kind of dad, but I guess coming back from the dead warranted a new level of affection. I clenched my teeth so I wouldn't wince when I raised my arms to circle his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. I already had a horribly bruised face, no need to tell them about the shoulder wound, too.

We took seats in the living room and I explained everything from the first day I woke up in Paris. I skipped over the Adriano marriage and the fact that Harry was involved. I didn't know how to explain that I'd been married. Mom would have been horrified, even if it wasn't legal because there'd been no Camila. I left out Carlo, too. I couldn't explain about him without bringing up Harry. Besides, when I told them about him, I wanted to do it in person. When I was finished, my mother and father sat, motionless, digesting the information.

A few minutes later, my mother said, "I just don't understand. Is this to do with your being a bounty hunter?"

Ranger leaned forward. "It doesn't seem related to any of Stephanie's cases, so far. When we figure it out, Mrs. Plum, we'll tell you the rest."

She seemed willing to accept his statement, but I could see she was wary.

The front door burst open and Val rushed in, took one look at me, and went back out. I looked at my mother, who sat gaping, staring at the closed front door. A minute later, Val came back into the house. She studied me for a full thirty seconds before quickly rushing over to hug me, teary eyed and a little sniffly.

"Alice Phipps told Marjorie Galanis that Mrs. DelVecchio and Lou Barbara saw you get out of a flashy black car and come into the house with Ma. I thought there was no way it was true because Ma would have called me." She glanced accusingly at mom and continued. "Then I decided she'd be in too much shock to think of it. So I had to come over and see for myself."

She hugged me again and stepped back, blinking suspiciously. "So, where've you been? Oh my God, who did that to your face?" I gave her a shortened version of the story I'd told my parents. She listened and said, "The strangest things happen to you." She almost sounded amazed, but the horrified look on her face belied her tone of voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, at least it had nothing to do with my job this time. At least it doesn't seem so."

"You'd better call Mary Lou. She's probably gotten word already." Knowing Mary Lou, I was already on the timer. Out of respect for my family, she'd wait, but only so long.

"We're headed over now," I said, standing. Ranger followed my lead. "We have to get the ball rolling on, uh, reinstating me with the appropriate agencies."

"Of course," my mother said. "I'm—thank you for coming as soon as you could."

"Not a chance I wouldn't," I said quietly.

"Come to dinner tonight," she said, but it was more a plea than a command.

I looked at Ranger, unsure of when we were going to see Harry, and he nodded. "We'll be here," I said. Apparently we had time to come back before the big showdown.

I hugged my family once more and Ranger and I left for Mary Lou's house. She was a more painful experience. She cried and hugged me and cried and carried on, then cried some more. She demanded an explanation and I gave her the same story as my parents. Then she apologized because she was a wreck and explained that she was pregnant again. I wanted so badly to tell her about Carlo then, but I held back.

"God, Steph. It was awful thinking you were dead. I thought of a ton of things I wanted to tell you all the time, and then I'd remember you were … gone." Her eyes turned red again, but then she sat forward, apparently all cried out, and said, "I can tell you're lying when you say you don't know who did it, so spill."

I wasn't surprised. I knew Mary Lou would be the hardest to convince, but I shook my head. "I have to keep you out of the loop for now. I don't want you anywhere near this thing."

"Oh wow, this must be big." Thank God for Mary Lou. She trusted me enough to know I'd tell her every detail of every secret as long as I could. And if not, she'd wait. She'd always been that way.

"It is. Ranger and I have to go, because I want to get back to the land of the living and I don't even have a birth certificate anymore. Not a valid one, anyway." We hugged and Mary Lou teared up again. "I'll come see you when this is over."

"Take care, Steph. It's good to have you back."

I smiled and Ranger, who had been busy texting on his phone while we talked, led me out of the house. I felt better. There were a few more stops on my list, but Lula was next. I didn't actually have to _go _anywhere to get back into the land of the living legally. Ranger was handling it all. Then I remembered something very important. "The Medical Examiner, Ranger."

He nodded, as if he'd been waiting for me to ask. "Eddie picked him up about thirty minutes ago. Tank and I are going to the PD to talk to him. You'll stay at Rangeman and catch up with Lula."

"Okay." A plan was forming in my head and Ranger shook his head.

"You're not going to go running off to do this yourself, are you?"

"No, but I am going to insist I be involved when Harry is confronted. I deserve to be there. I want to hear it straight from his mouth."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. "You do have a right to be there. We'll work it out. Somehow."

I nodded, satisfied. For now. I'd spring my plan on them all later when everyone got together to prepare. I felt certain my idea would work.

"You might as well tell me. If we have to change plans at the last minute, it won't be good."

"Fine." I wrinkled my nose and told him what I wanted to do. He listened, unhappy at first, but by the end, he was smiling.

"I think it's good, babe. Tell Lester and Seppe when you get back to the office. It will work." He took my hand and raised it to his lips. "Proud of you, babe."

_Now_ I was happy.


	25. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Only five chapters to go! I can't believe it. Thanks so much to everyone. I'm still trying to get time to reply to reviews from chapter 24 and plan to make that happen tomorrow. Thanks to all of my readers who let me know what you're thinking and give me insight to how this plot looks to you. I've been working on it so long, it's nice to see it new through your eyes!_

…

Chapter 25

I found Lula in the break room when Ranger and I got to Rangeman. I was bombarded with hellos and hugs the second I reached the fifth floor. By that time, everyone knew I was back, but most were still shocked _and_ glad to see me alive.

She was as angry as a wet hornet and understandably so. She buzzed around the kitchen with her head shaking and slamming things: coffee cup on the counter, cupboard doors, fridge door, and she even kicked the trash can.

"Girl, I wanted to tear Tank three new assholes when he walked in here and told me you were alive. And he _knew _about it. That man didn't even call me or nothin'. I said, 'Now I know you didn't just tell me you kept a secret like this from me the whole time you were gone.' Unh-hunh. It's gonna take him a _long _time to make up for this."

I bit back a smile. Poor Tank. He'd really been trying to do what was safest for me at the time. And Lula could be a little too … open. It's hard to share a secret this big with her knowing she'd be happy and have a hard time keeping it quiet. Still, I would have been pissed if I'd been in her shoes.

"Well," I said, making an attempt to smooth things over, "just remember that for a long time, we didn't know who was behind this whole thing, so we were being careful."

"I guess that's right, but damn, I'm his wife." She looked hurt. "And your friend."

"I know. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't tell my family or Mary Lou until today. Don't be too hard on him. It was hard to know what the right thing to do was. You know how those guys are. Still, you _are _his wife and he should trust you." I was evil and Tank would make me pay for that remark if he found out.

"Unh-hunh."

Once she calmed down, I told her the story from beginning to end and shared with her the dreams I'd had, especially the memories of Carlo. We speculated about what Harry's big issue with me was, but didn't come up with anything that made sense. I was mostly relieved to talk to someone who knew the whole story, including the details on Harry and Carlo.

"What we gonna do about him, anyway?"

I smiled. "I have a plan." I told her what I wanted to do and said, "I need you to go shopping for me while I tell Lester and Seppe. Think you can handle it?"

"Just like old times," she said with an evil grin. "Say what you need and I'll help." Thank God for Lula. I explained to her what I wanted and she nodded. "I know just where to go."

"Thanks, Lula. You're a lifesaver."

"Hmm," she said, standing and rolling her eyes. She hated getting thanks for helping, but she deserved it. "I'll have Tank take it to your hotel before you're done with dessert."

I went to find Lester and Seppe after that. They listened to my plan, looking doubtful at first.

"Why do you want to do it this way?" Lester asked.

"I don't want to give that slime ball a chance to weasel his way out of it. It's the best way to catch him in a lie."

Lester laughed. "Either way you win."

I nodded. Damn skippy.

"I think this is brilliant, Stephanie," Seppe said. "_Very, very good._" I noticed he tended to slip back into Italian without realizing it.

Lester nodded. "It's a good plan, Blue Eyes. Harry won't try anything with Seppe there, and you get the pleasure of watching him squirm his ass off." His smile turned devious. "What a night this is gonna be."

Ranger and Tank returned shortly after and reported that the ME, a guy named Frank Isley, had been forced to cooperate with Harry's plan. He'd threatened his wife and their young daughter. He swore he had nothing to do with the actual plan to remove me from Trenton.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"He's telling the truth," Ranger said. Holy shit, just what had Ranger done to get the man to talk? Then again, maybe just knowing someone knew opened his mouth. Yeah, I'd go with that theory. It was easier to think about. He turned to Seppe. "His job won't survive this, but he could use some protection. He's terrified."

Seppe agreed. "I do not want to punish a man who had no choices. Going to the _polizia_ wouldn't have been a wise choice."

I wondered if Seppe had ever done that very thing to someone else. I didn't know what standard mafia operations were, or if Seppe even participated in shady behavior. Then I mentally kicked myself. Regardless of how he felt about me personally, he still wasn't _safe_. He was the mob.

"My team will need to know the new plan." Seppe smiled at me. "Ranger, do you have a conference room available to us?" I was surprised to hear Seppe say Ranger instead of '_signore _Mañoso' and figured Ranger must have convinced him it was best to address him that way here in the building.

"Certainly. Lester?"

Lester nodded. "Right this way."

Ranger turned to me. "If we're going to get to your parents' by six, we should get to our hotel."

I blinked. "Hotel?"

He smiled. "Tank and Lula live upstairs." Shit, I hadn't known. It hadn't occurred to me to ask where she and Tank lived. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but Tank noticed anyway..

"We're building a place and should be moved in soon. It was temporary."

I gave him a bright smile, but I was sad and surprised. Everything had changed. Tank and Lula had been using Ranger's bed—Yikes, we were changing the mattress ASAP—and it just wasn't fair. I'd never gotten to live there and couldn't stay there even now. I'd been looking forward to being in a familiar place tonight. "A hotel, huh?"

Ranger, never one to miss the subtle differences in my mood, kissed my temple and said quietly, "Come on."

"Can I drive?"

"You don't have a license, babe." He flashed me a wide grin and I rolled my eyes. Details.

…

Dinner with my parents felt normal and strained at the same time. For them, the identity of the criminal who ruined my life hung over all our heads. For me, the fact that Grandma wasn't there and my father wasn't complaining just made everything so _wrong_.

It was almost a relief to return to our hotel. I gingerly changed, trying to keep from moving my injured shoulder too much. The outfit was exactly what I'd wanted and I was really thankful for and impressed with Lula's shopping spree. The colors were perfect. She'd gotten a strapless cotton dress in classic red with a fitted bodice and flared skirt, very 60s in style, a wide black patent leather belt, black high-heeled sandals with an ankle strap, and a woven, wide-brimmed black hat which hid my eyes if I tilted my head down a little. While I fastened on a tiny black bolero, I gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Ella! Where is she?" I hadn't seen her around the Rangeman building and she would have come to talk to me if she was there.

Ranger came over and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me on the back of my jaw near my ear. "D.C. She and Louis went with me when I moved."

"Coming home is more depressing than I'd hoped." I knew I sounded whiny, but didn't care at the moment. It'd been a difficult day.

He took my face in his hands and kissed the corners of my mouth, then my eyelids. "We'll get it all back and more."

I knew we would one day, but for now I was still a little disappointed with my homecoming, or rather, the changes that had altered all the constants in my life.

It took just a few minutes more to finish my look with black onyx drop earrings and some red lipstick. When I turned to Ranger, he was staring. "Every time I see you, it's like a gift. When you look like this, it almost hurts." He came very close to me and bent down to kiss over my heart through my dress. "Here." My breath hitched at the huskiness of his tone. Then he stood up and curled his hands around my hips, pulling them against his, stopping my breathing altogether. "And here." He smiled. "I never know which is worse."

I did, and I groaned. "Ranger, we have to leave and now I'm all…"

"Shh." He kissed my nose and bent his head to nuzzle my neck, breathing deeply and pressing tender kisses to the sensitive skin. "Me, too. I just want a minute."

I tilted my head back, eyes closed, and opened my mouth as he kissed his way up my neck. I could handle more than a minute if he wanted.

Too soon, he pulled away slowly with a final kiss on my collarbone and stepped back. "Time to go."

I blinked my eyes open and scowled at him. "What? That wasn't a minute. It was more like a few seconds."

"Let's do this and I'll give you all the time you want."

…

Seppe smiled in approval when he saw my outfit. "Very good choice."

"Thank you."

"Orlando—Harry—won't suspect a thing."

We all smiled. I said, "That's the plan."

Five minutes later, Seppe and I climbed into a waiting black Cadillac Escalade. There were two others parked behind it in the underground garage. Ranger and Tank were in the front seats of the one directly behind us. I was surprised that Tank was driving and not Ranger. Four of Seppe's men climbed into the back of their SUV. The last Escalade was driven by Lester, with Cal at shotgun. Hal and Ram stood beside that truck, along with two more of Seppe's men.

In our vehicle, a guy named Toni sat at the wheel and Vincenzo had shotgun. They didn't speak, merely listened and nodded to Seppe when he spoke, always in Italian. I was nervous, but more because I didn't want to blow it by getting angry and giving myself away too soon. I had to keep calm.

Seppe reached over after we got our seatbelts on, and tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. "You will do fine."

"I'm ready for this," I said, more to myself than Seppe. He patted my hand and told Toni to drive.

The ride to Harry's compound took twenty-five minutes. I felt impatient and tapped my foot on the floor, itching to get there and get it over with. At least Seppe didn't appear to be bothered by my nervous habit.

During dinner, it had started to rain and now, in the dark, all of the colors muted together into an eerie camouflage. Lights blazed out with an alien glow through the wet windows. I couldn't see the landscape very well, but I knew the area enough to know when we were close.

Soon, I saw a large, white home lit by flood lights, set back from the road behind a tall iron fence. The manicured lawn gleamed with drops of rain, almost looking artificial due to its deep green hue. We pulled up to the gate and I nearly rolled my eyes at the two stone lions on either side, guarding the entrance in stoic silence.

Toni slowed and stopped near the Lion on the left, reaching out to press a call button on its hind quarters. I noticed then that there were speaker holes in a circular pattern. Dual purpose.

A voice called through the little holes, "State your business."

"_The Signore to see signor Costa_."

The gate swung open immediately and all three vehicles wheeled in. I'd been worried that this would alarm Harry, but Seppe assured me this was standard procedure for a visit. Toni drove slowly up the curved driveway. Sculpted topiaries in strange shapes, almost geometric, stood alongside. The green of the leaves was so vibrant and unreal, I thought they looked painted like the roses in _Alice in Wonderland_.

We stopped in front of the stone stairs leading to the front door. The vehicles idled. Vincenzo got out and opened the door for Seppe, who was nearest the stairs. He stepped out of the car and turned to offer me a hand, helping me as I climbed out onto the running board and then down onto the drive. It was cobbled here and circular with a fountain in the center brightly lit by spot lights pointing up to the top spire.

I felt Ranger's eyes on me as we ascended the steps. Halfway up, the front door opened and Harry came out with a wide smile on his face. Harry, though not unattractive, had the look of a man who indulged a little too much in alcohol and not enough in the gym. He wasn't a large man, but he was not fit, either. He had the same middle-of-the-road look as many middle aged men who didn't have time or didn't bother to take care of themselves. And he looked a little worried at Seppe's surprise visit. I dipped my head downward slightly to hide my face behind the brim of my hat. As expected, he gave me no notice.

He held his hands out in front of him and gripped Seppe's arms like an old friend, releasing him after he said, "_Seppe, what a surprise. I didn't know you planned a visit so soon. I would have greeted you at the airport myself_."

Seppe gracefully waved the comment away with his hand and said, "_I wanted to pay a visit to my sister-in-law, Sophia. She's had such a difficult time since Sergio died._"

Harry quickly turned sympathetic. "_Such a great loss. Your brother was one of a kind_."

I'd had no idea Seppe's brother died. I glanced at him, but he remained business-like and unreadable. "_Thank you for your kind words, Orlando, but we both know my brother was an unscrupulous disappointment._" Harsh words for a brother. Harry looked properly chastised, which made me wonder what the deal was with the brother. "_I decided to check on business this evening before I began my family duties._"

Harry nodded, more relaxed now. "_Please, come in. I was about to pour some brandy, would you care to join me?_"

"_Yes, thank you_."

We'd been counting on the fact that I'd be invisible to Harry and it looked like the plan was working. Seppe was known for 'travel companions' and figured Harry would assume I was just that. I kept my hand on Seppe's arm as we followed Harry into the marbled foyer and then through two tall, white double doors to the left of the main staircase, leading to a den.

The room was as ridiculous as Harry. The only normal thing in it was a white marble fireplace, fireless now due to the summer heat. There was a large black leather couch facing the fireplace with a black lacquer coffee table in between. On the two ends were matching black leather loveseats. Seppe seated me on one of the loveseats and took a seat on the end of the large couch nearest the other, most likely to keep Harry's eye from looking too closely at me.

Harry poured out the brandy into large, crystal snifters. He brought one to me, handing it to me without sparing me a glance. Then he handed Seppe's to him before returning to the bar to grab his own glass. Vincenzo had followed us into the room, but stood guard near the door. I expected this was normal behavior, as well, because Harry didn't seem to notice him. Nor did he offer the man a drink.

I studied Harry out of the corner of my eye while swirling the dark amber liquid in my glass, taking occasional sips. I wasn't going to drink the whole thing, but sipping, or pretending to sip, gave me something to do besides wait.

Seppe sat back, placing an arm casually along the back of the couch and crossing his legs. He sipped his brandy and waited until Harry seated himself in the loveseat opposite me.

I tried not to stare too long at any one thing in the room, but it was so '80s porn' that I had to concentrate hard not to shudder. From the tiger skin rug on the floor beneath the coffee table to the stuffed game on the walls, it was tacky to the max. I couldn't help but wonder why someone with such a beautiful home would have such an ugly room and then wondered if the rest of the rooms were as gaudy and distasteful.

Seppe sipped, staring into his glass, contemplating. Harry sipped, waiting for Seppe to speak. When he did, he'd changed to a grieving man. If I hadn't known this was part of the plan, I would have wanted to comfort him. "_We've handled the burial with Camila's ashes. Her stone has been placed. You will, of course, want to see it when you come to Italy next_."

"_Naturally_," Harry answered. Small beads of sweat popped out onto his forehead, probably nervous about lying so openly to his boss. I clenched my teeth and pretended to take another sip to look more relaxed. Naturally, my ass.

Seppe nodded. "_You remember Alfredo_?"

"_Yes, your manservant._"

"_Well_," Seppe said, sitting forward, his brow knit with consternation, "_he showed me something that was simply amazing earlier when we arrived. I wanted to ask you about it_."

Harry gulped down the rest of his brandy, sloshing some onto his navy polo shirt. He was in preppy mode, wearing khaki colored dress pants and expensive brown leather loafers. His dark eyes were beady little orbs in his head that swiveled around the room constantly. He looked at the wall, the floor, my ankles—eww—and Seppe in between. Very shifty.

His voice wasn't quite steady when he asked, "_Oh, really?_"

"_As you know, when I have not been to a place in a long time, I like to see what I have missed. It's a good way to keep track of the competition, among other things._"

Harry stood and went back to the decanter, raising it to Seppe in question. Seppe shook his head and Harry poured himself a generous amount and asked, "_Is there something that worries you about the business here?_"

"_No, Orlando. I'm quite satisfied with the way you've run the accounts_."

Rather than looking pleased, Harry looked a little panicked and gulped down half the contents of his glass, waiting.

"_He showed me an article with this bounty hunter, Stephanie Plum, and I think she looks very much like Camila. Did you know she went missing about a year ago_?" Seppe asked the question casually, but the look he leveled at Harry said anything _but _casual.

Harry's hand was shaking so badly now that he set his glass down and shoved the hand into his pocket. "_You know, I don't pay much attention to the locals who don't give me trouble_."

Now Seppe stood, setting his glass on the slick, black coffee table. "_Orlando_."

Sweat poured from the other man's head now, running down the sides of his face. He leaned heavily against the bar, sitting on a stool, and mopped his forehead and face with his hand. "_Seppe, I must apologize for the deception. I had to remove the woman to protect someone I love very much_."

Protect someone he loved? I wracked my brain. I had _no_ idea who he could be talking about. There was no reason for anyone to need me gone. I didn't want to hurt anyone. Had some relative of his been bonded out before I was taken? Was he afraid I'd take the case and capture him … or her?

I clenched and unclenched my hand, holding myself completely still so I didn't fly across the room and tear the man limb from limb. The way I felt, I could probably do it.

The change in Seppe's face was instantaneous. Anger and outrage screamed out from every plane on his handsome face. "_You lied to me. If you needed to remove the girl, lying was not a necessary step. More than that, you made her lie to me, as well. I loved her like a daughter, Orlando._"

Harry stood and came over to stand near Seppe, stopping in front of the loveseat he'd vacated. He was worried, caught in a lie so deep he didn't know how to fix it. "_I told her it was the only way she would not be killed._"

I bit my teeth together firmly to keep from shouting at him and then, I no longer had to hold back my temper. Seppe turned to me and nodded, giving me the go ahead to jump in.

Standing slowly, I set the snifter down beside Seppe's and removed my hat. "Did you, Harry?" His eyes flew to me, horrified. "In fact, did you say anything to me at all?"


	26. Chapter 26

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Okay ... only four more chapters. They'll all be posted by Saturday. Sorry for the week delay. I was so busy with holiday stuff, but my beta has all the rest of the chapters for a final check so we're good to go!_

…

Chapter 26

_Crash! _Harry sat down abruptly, probably aiming for the loveseat, but landed on the coffee table. His arms flailed in surprise and swept everything from the table: the glasses and a candy dish filled with … shell casings of all things. Crystal shattered and liquid streamed across the table and began dripping onto the floor. He made fish motions with his mouth, trying to speak, but only ended up shaking his head.

Annoyed, I crossed my arms and took a few steps to stand over him beside Seppe at the couch. Callous didn't begin to describe the way I felt toward this man and I wanted to make sure he suffered through this encounter … as much as possible. It still wouldn't compare to what he'd done to me, my family, and everyone I cared about, especially my son.

"Surprised? That was some story, Harry. Good thing we didn't give you a chance to weasel your way out of this or we'd never learn the truth.

He seemed to collect himself and his expression cleared. He sat up, but didn't stand, possibly because Seppe took a step closer with a furious expression on his face.

I leaned down. "I want to know who and why. And I want to know where my son is, so start talking."

Harry bent his head and looked at his hands for a second before looking up with a calm expression that infuriated me beyond belief.

"Speak up, Harry, I can't hear you," I said.

"I will discuss this with the _Signore_."

Wrong. "It's not Seppe's life you messed with. It's mine and I want to know why."

"And mine," Ranger said from the doorway. All three of us turned to look at him. Damn, was he angry.

"_Signore_…" Harry said, but Seppe nodded at Ranger and sat on the couch, removing himself from the conversation. As if realizing he had no backup or protection, Harry began to look adequately uncertain.

Ranger crossed the room in long strides and bent over Harry, grasping the front of his shirt in a fist. "Answer her." His face was a mask of dark, eyes hard and violent.

Harry sneered up at Ranger. "I owe you nothing. Neither of you."

"Nothing? You kidnapped me and then stole my baby!" Harry's eyes flicked my way and I said, "Adriano gave me that tidbit before I killed him."

Surprise flared in his eyes.

Ranger gave Harry a hard enough shake to snap his head back. The older man grunted and said. "The original plan was to get you out of Trenton for a short time and then bring you back."

"Who?" Ranger asked.

Harry shook his head and looked away. Seppe stood and approached Harry. Ranger released him and backed up slowly. Harry took that moment to move himself from the coffee table to the loveseat, shaking the broken glass from his clothes.

Seppe said, "Orlando, you remember Nico Toscini?" With a wary look in his eye, the other man nodded. "What would he do if he were suddenly in possession of evidence proving you had his daughter killed?"

Face pale, Harry said, "I didn't! I even tried to help find the group responsible for her death."

Seppe nodded, a scary, satisfied look in his eye. "Yes, but what _if _he suddenly found out you were responsible. Would he want retribution?"

"_Signore_, please. It would be a death sentence for my daughter."

"Yes, I know," Seppe said. Seconds ticked by. He gestured toward me. "You will answer her questions or find yourself in a mess you can't clean up."

With a visibly hard swallow, Harry looked Seppe square in the eyes and nodded. "_You keep Lucille safe._" He looked at Ranger, then me. "I didn't know you were the intended target. By the time I realized, it was too late. Then Mañoso got involved with your search. I know his reputation. He's known for finding people. It was only a matter of time before he found out, so we staged your death. Paid off the medical examiner—"

"Threatened," I interrupted.

With a nod, Harry said, "Yes, threatened. As expected, when Mañoso believed you were dead, he stopped looking. It wasn't personal."

He acted like all he'd done was side swipe my car. I gritted my teeth and snarled, "You just don't get it. You ruined my life. Even if you hadn't 'killed me off' I lived a life of utter hell!"

"That wasn't my fault." He said it calm as can be, like a calculated boardroom executive.

"How do you figure? If you hadn't plunked me in Italy in the first place, I never would have met Adriano."

Ranger grabbed the front of Harry's shirt with both hands and yanked him up until their noses touched. "You have thirty. seconds. to explain why you needed Stephanie out of town."

"That's all you're getting."

"Twenty-eight."

Seppe pulled out his cell phone and began punching in a phone number. Harry's eyes flicked between the two men and then a hand went up. "Wait, _Signore_." He gave a slight nod and Ranger shifted his fists enough to set Harry back a few inches away. Harry turned his head and looked at me with a slight shrug. "The baby."

"What? Impossible," I said.

Harry shook his head. "You were kidnapped because of your pregnancy."

"Fuck you, Harry. I'm sick of your lies." I paced away a few steps and returned. "No one knew I was pregnant. _I_ didn't even know I was pregnant. Try again."

"The hospital tested you."

"This is a waste of time," I spat, bitterly disappointed.

Ranger glanced over at me. "He's not lying."

"He _has _to be."

Harry fell down to the loveseat when Ranger let go of his shirt as he turned to me and said, "Before you came to, the hospital was prepping you for a CT Scan on your head. The one you refused."

"When I was knocked out by that brick?" Ranger nodded. Of course a pregnancy test would be part of the prep. I looked at Harry. "Who told you?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Is this the person who has Carlo?"

He didn't say anything and, quicker than I could blink, Ranger wrapped his hand around Harry's neck and tightened his fingers, cutting off his airway. I was beginning to think it was a signature move for him. "Where is he?"

"Never," Harry squeaked.

I needed to think. Before Ranger killed Harry. Not that I would miss Harry, but I didn't want Ranger to off a guy in front of me.

If the hospital knew I was pregnant, why wasn't I told? Granted, I'd bolted out of there faster than a nun from a gay strip club. And clearly Harry had an inside connection at the hospital. It could be anyone, but my gut told me it wasn't just a random person. It was someone who wanted a baby. Someone who wanted a baby badly enough that they'd torn up several lives to get one.

The name jumped out at me faster than a lightning bolt. Oh. My. God. I knew who it was and, more importantly, I knew why. "Tell me, _please_, tell me Lucille doesn't have my baby!"

"Lucille planned this?" Ranger asked, too surprised to hide it, letting go of Harry's throat so he could answer.

"You keep your fucking hands off her, Mañoso!" Harry shouted.

"You aren't in a place to make demands, Orlando," Ranger said.

"She does, doesn't she?" I yelled. "That crazy bitch did all of this because she couldn't get pregnant. Was she waiting specifically for me? Is this some sort of payback because I worked for Vinnie?"

Harry looked away from me, the coward.

Ranger said, "Go fill Tank in, have him get Vinnie's address in Florida and make flight arrangements for us. Make sure Lester goes, and Lula. I'll be out when I get a few more answers."

"Both of you go," Seppe said. "I will take care of my own." He came over to stand in front of me and put his hands on my shoulder. "Trust me to get your answers. You go get that little boy."

"Thank you," I said. I grabbed Ranger's hand and together we walked out of the room, then out of the house. Two more of Seppe's men came in through the front door as we entered the hallway. It looked like they were getting down to business and I suddenly wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.

Ranger apparently felt the same way, because he surged forward, helping me manage the stairs in my heels as we ran down. He signaled Tank and Lester, then made some gesture to Hal, Cal, and Ram, receiving a nod from all three. The four of us climbed into the last SUV, with Ranger at the wheel and Lester in the backseat beside me.

"Call the office, have Mick get Vinnie's address, then book the four of us and Lula flights to the nearest airport. We will be leaving tonight, no exceptions." He looked at me in the rear view mirror and I nodded at him. Damn right we'd be leaving tonight.

…

One thing about the Rangemen is they work fast. By the time we got back to the office, Mick had the information Ranger wanted and a private pilot on standby at Trenton Mercer. "You may have to wait a little while for clearance to take off, but he's ready when you get there. Lula said to send Stephanie up to seven for a change of clothes."

"Get clearance for 11:45. Talk to Chandler, he'll get it for us. We're heading out in ten. Babe, go ahead." He stalked to his office, or Tank's office, and went in, phone to his ear. I would have been offended that he'd just commanded me like one of his men, but I wanted to get out of here just as fast as he did.

I took the elevator to seven and Lula opened the apartment door before I stepped off the elevator. "This is crazy. Going to Florida and no time for a bikini." I decided not to think about Lula in a bikini and kicked my shoes off. She tossed a pile of clothes at me and I began changing right in the foyer. I didn't so much as move off the tiled area and didn't look around, but kept my eyes on the floor so I wouldn't have to see any changes that marked the passage of the time I was away.

"I know, I know. This is all about the baby and it should be." She grabbed her purse and waited for me to finish. "Still seems like a waste of a perfectly good tropical place."

I snorted. At this moment, I didn't think of Florida as a vacation spot. It was a destination, hopefully the final one, where we'd end this insanity once and for all.

I finished tugging on my running shoes, not bothering to tie them, figuring I'd do it in the car on the way to the airport. Lula and I left the apartment and stepped into the waiting elevator.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just want it over."

"I hear that."

At the Escalade, I was surprised to see Ram would be joining us, as well. It made me nervous to think that Ranger was taking three guys with him to confront two people and I could only hope no one got hurt, especially Carlo.

An hour later, we were in the air with Ranger's cell on speakerphone with Seppe on the other end

"He's used this reconditioning center to experiment with memories for the past ten years?" I asked.

"Yes, he has. My first priority is going to see this place. I'm curious." Good God, if he was going to use it I _really _didn't want to know.

He'd been playing with lives for years. No wonder it was so easy for him to grab me and turn me into someone else in such a short time. The man had it down pat. "Why does he have that place?"

"It started as an obsession to help his mother. She had Alzheimer's and he wanted to find a way to help her retain her memory. After she died, he kept it to pursue the other findings of his employees. He's solely used it for a way to dispose of people, rather than killing them outright."

Given my experience, I wasn't sure what would have been worse. At the time. Of course, I was incredibly glad he didn't kill me. Now. "That's disgusting."

"Did he say what took him so long to return Stephanie to herself once she had Carlo?" Ranger asked.

"And why he didn't take Carlo as soon as he was born?" I added.

"Adriano. He'd found out who Camila really was and, since Orlando brought her to me, he knew Orlando was involved. So, Adriano blackmailed him, made a deal to leave Carlo alone until he could get Camila pregnant with his own child. Orlando felt trapped. He couldn't just take Stephanie like he had last time. Adriano kept her and Carlo under constant surveillance. There was also my relationship with her to consider. He had to tread carefully and wait for the perfect moment.

"Unfortunately, that came when Adriano had nearly killed her. I know it matters little, but he did not realize the extent of Adriano's behavior. I still accept that blame since I pushed you to him."

I shook my head. "Seppe, Harry got me to Italy in the first place. If it hadn't been for him, none of this would have happened. He may not have directly had a hand in my marriage to Adriano, but he's the guilty party here, not you."

"I appreciate your kindness, but it will remain one of my greatest regrets."

Seppe told us he planned to return to Italy tomorrow night, and I thanked him. We hung up and I leaned against Ranger during the flight, just thinking. My thoughts were consumed with Carlo. How different would he look? Could I handle this? My life had changed so much, seemingly in a blink of the eye, and I didn't know how to feel about any of it. One thing was certain. I knew I loved this kid, no matter how I felt about motherhood. I'd figure out the rest later.

"Babe," Ranger said a little while later.

Broken out of my thoughts, I looked at him, focusing on his face. He was serious, but his eyes held a tenderness that hit the gooey spot deep inside my heart. I reached up with my good arm to cup his cheek, noticing that the scratches were mostly healed, and kissed him.

He folded me into his arms and deepened the kiss quickly, then pulled back before I was ready. "We're here."

The small jet began a rapid descent and was soon taxiing up to the gate. Tank and Lula were having a quiet discussion and I smiled. I liked the two of them together. My eyes traveled back to Ranger and I said, "Okay. What's the plan?"

"Drive to Vinnie's, get the baby, go home."

"Just that simple."

He gave me a serious look. "I make no assumptions. This is why we brought a team."

The plane stopped and sounds from the front made it clear we'd be disembarking soon. I took a quick breath and twiddled my thumbs.

"What is it?" he asked.

I pressed my fingers against my thighs to stop my fidgeting. "We don't have any paperwork to prove he exists or that he's ours."

"I'm sorry, babe. We were so busy yesterday with visits I forgot to tell you Seppe produced the documents we needed." I took the word 'produced' literally in this sense. "We have a birth certificate that reflects our real names." Ranger grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently. "His gift to us."

I relaxed. Then another worry popped into my head. "How does that all work with everyone thinking I was dead?"

He blinked and cocked his head to the side. "Technically, it doesn't matter." With a jerk of his head toward the front, he said, "Looks like it's time to go."

I looked up and saw that everyone else was at the door. We exited the plane behind them and went through the gate and then through a door a security guard opened for us, down a narrow passage with low lighting. No security check, no ID check. It was scary to think some people in the world were allowed to live outside the law, even if one of them was Ranger. I asked him how it was fair.

His lips brushed my ear. "Babe, people like me exist _because _of the other guys. Think of Vinnie and Lucille." I rolled my eyes. It was so like him to turn my concern around and make it personal. And I couldn't be concerned now, because our guys were going to kick the bad guys' butts.

I was on pins and needles for the whole drive. The air was sticky outside and I was glad for the air conditioning. Ranger tried to soothe me, but I shook his hand off. It was distracting and bothersome when I almost _needed _the agitation to keep me focused. When we finally got to the quiet street where Vinnie and Lucille lived, Tank handed me a Sig Sauer, my old gun. I looked at him. "Locked it up in the safe after." I blinked and took a deep breath, refusing to get emotional right now.

Ranger turned to me, speaking in a low tone. "You come with me. Tank and Lester are going in the back to find the baby. Ram will be outside the front door in case we need backup. Lula is waiting in the truck and she'll take care of him until you get back. Got it?"

I nodded. "Are we expecting a fight?"

"Lucille went to a lot of effort to get him. We don't know how far she'll go to keep him."

"Okay," I said and blew out a breath to calm myself. "I'm ready."

"Talk to them, use your instincts. It's more important to get out without losing lives than to get answers. Plenty of time to ask questions later."

"Got it."

I checked my gun to make sure it was loaded, even though I knew it was. It made me feel responsible and it gave me something to do with my hands while I waited for Ranger's signal.

"Engage," Ranger said quietly and we filed toward the house. I saw Tank and Lester run swiftly to the back. I was briefly impressed with how stealthy a big guy like Tank could be. Ram positioned himself to the side of the front door. If any of the neighbors were up, they might think it was a sophisticated robbery attempt. Ranger raised his fist and banged loudly. The sound thundered through the house. He knocked once more and one of the front rooms in the house lit up.

Breathe in. Breathe out. I could do this. Talk first, shoot later. I felt like I was hyperventilating, my heart was beating wildly under my sternum, and my blood pressure was pounding in my ears. Ranger cupped his hand around the back of my neck. The warmth of his skin calmed me and I drew in a deeper breath.

The porch light flicked on and I blew out one final breath, then sucked in and held it. Time to get Carlo back.


	27. Chapter 27

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Alright, only three left. New Year's Eve or bust! Thanks so much for your support and patience with me! I hope you all have a great holiday!_

...

Chapter 27

The front door opened and Vinnie appeared in a pair of black silk pants and red smoking jacket with black lapels and cuffs. It clung to his skinny, non-muscular frame like plastic wrap clings to a piece of oddly shaped meat. His eyes were a bit droopy and puffy, as if he'd been asleep, which was likely the case.

He looked angry and then a little scared. His fake 'how can I help you' smile replaced the scowl and he stammered through the screen door, "Ranger, what a surprise. C-can I help you?"

"We need to talk."

The smile faltered a little and he fumbled with the lock on the push latch. When the door was open, he said, "Come right in. I, uh …" He struggled for what to say and then shrugged. "We were sleeping."

"This won't take long."

Ranger pushed past him and then I stepped in behind him. Vinnie went from overly helpful to horrified. "What the hell is this? I thought you bought it back in Trenton! Shit, what happened to your face?" Yep, same old Vinnie.

"Nice to see you, too, Vinnie." I looked around the room. No sign of Lucille. There was a plasma screen TV mounted to the wall to the right and two cushioned fake Ming chairs angled toward it. On the left wall was a colorful landscape painting of the Yellow Mountains with a sword mounted over it. Everything was Asian themed. It was a very comfortable parlor type of room.

Vinnie's smile was back and he glanced from me to Ranger and back. "Of course I'm glad to see you're alive. I'm just surprised is all." He gave a nervous laugh and said in a joking tone, "You couldn't get back here before my business ran into the ground, eh?"

He wasn't joking, despite the delivery and I stared at him. He was unbelievable, even if I'd expected him to be more worried about losing his business than about what happened to me. I would have been more concerned if he hadn't mentioned it. That he was acting like 'same ol' Vinnie' would probably save him from Ranger. If he wasn't acting like he had something to hide, he probably didn't know he had something to hide. Well, that and the fact that, if he'd been guilty, he would have been groveling to Ranger in a 'worried-begging-for-his-life' way the second he saw us.

Ranger's cool, professional façade didn't slip. "Where's Lucille?"

Vinnie's fake salesman's look faded and confusion replaced it. "Asleep. She took an Ambien. Lights out, you know what I mean? What's this about? Why are you asking about her?"

I sized up Vinnie. No shifty eyes, at least nothing more than normal, no nervous gestures. He really had no idea why we were here. Oh God, maybe Carlo wasn't here. I glanced at Ranger nervously.

He appeared to be thinking the same thing. He didn't speak for a few seconds and then he said, "We're here for the boy."

Shock, then disbelief and, finally, outrage flickered across Vinnie's face. "You want the kid? No way! We get him and Lucille finally shuts her damn mouth for five seconds. You can't just come in here and take him. If that's all you want, I'll make it easy for you. Get out!"

For a minute, I couldn't even respond. Was that all a baby meant to him? A means to shut up his wife? I didn't realize I was snarling until Ranger ran his hand down my back in a soothing stroke. I looked at him, shaking my head in disgust, and turned back to Vinnie. "You're unbelievable."

"No, you're unbelievable. You don't just come into someone's goddamned house at two-thirty in the morning and tell them to hand over their kid. I'm calling the cops."

"Be my guest," Ranger said in a low, serious tone. "Then we can show them the paperwork proving this child was stolen from his rightful parents. You and Lucille will go to jail. Makes this easier."

As Ranger spoke, Vinnie started waving his hands and shaking his head, chanting, "No, no, no. You're wrong. It was legitimate. We didn't steal the kid. It was a private adoption."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You sure about that Vinnie? Who was your adoption agent?"

"Well…" He huffed a few times. "I mean, I didn't…" A few unintelligible words spluttered out of his mouth. "Shit."

He'd been steadily talking louder and I worried that even with the sleeping pill Lucille would wake up. Had the guys gotten Carlo? Was he safe and out of the house?"

"Talk." Ranger said so much more in his tone and body language and Vinnie got the idea.

"No, okay? I wasn't there. But Harry handled it, found the people. Lucille went and met with the agency, showed up with a baby and adoption papers. All I had to do was sign." His speech was rapid, worried. Ranger always made him nervous, but now he looked caught. "What the fuck?" he said more to himself. He looked ready to dart in one direction or other, undecided, and then opened his mouth and bellowed, "Lucille! Get out here!"

Crap! I hoped the guys were out. Ranger didn't look worried, so maybe their part was done. Then again, Ranger always looked confident.

"Lucille!"

A distant thud sounded down the hall. The creak of a door, then a muffled click as it closed. I held my breath. Ten seconds later, Lucille walked in with the grumpy look of a person woken from a dead sleep for no reason, her thin frame weaving slightly and thick black hair in a loose braid pulled forward just over the top of her shoulder. Angry gray eyes, puffy from sleep, zoned in on Vinnie.

"Vinnie! What the hell is wrong with you! You'll wake the—" She saw Ranger, first, and then me. Her expression went from grumpy to a twisted anger and she turned and ran down the hall.

My heart skipped a beat. Please be gone, I thought to the guys.

A shrill scream tore through the house and Lucille ran back into the room and straight at me in maniacal rage, hands out like claws. "No! NO!" I half expected her to froth at the mouth. Her voice resembled the screaming of a panther rather than a woman. "He _killed _you. He told me!"

Ranger had grabbed her around the shoulders and held her pinned to his chest so she couldn't attack me. She fought against him. Biting, scratching, kicking her legs out. It was unbelievable. I'd seen her angry before, knew she was demanding, but this level fit more with Bedlam than Burg.

"Let me guess," I said, taunting her. "Dear old dad?"

"You're supposed to be dead!"

"Daddy lied."

She kicked Ranger in the shins and twisted her head down to bite his bicep. He might as well have been made of stone for all the reaction she got. He didn't budge. "That incompetent coward!"

"Oh Jesus," Vinnie whispered, finally snapping out of his shock at Lucille's fit of rage. "Shit, I didn't know about this. I didn't have anything to do with it! Who's damn kid did you steal?"

"Mine," Ranger said. His quiet voice didn't diminish the rage in his eyes. "And Stephanie's."

"Oh shit," Vinnie squeaked, eyes moving back and forth between me and Ranger growing wider as the enormity of what happened hit him. "Swear to God. I didn't know, Ranger! On my mother's grave—on _my _grave!"

Ranger quietly looked at Vinnie and then let him off the hook in a show of mercy that made my love swell for him even more, even if it was wasted on Vinnie. "I know."

We left Vinnie to stew over the information and turned back to Lucille. We wanted answers. "How did you do it? Find out about my pregnancy, I mean. I didn't even know."

My question seemed to calm her. A malicious smiled played at her lips. "I had a special friend in the lab." The way she said friend suggested more.

"How did you get 'your friend' to put his job at risk just to give you the information?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "He was crazy about me. All I had to do was make him very, very happy a few times a day and he'd tell me anything. I asked him to let me know whenever he processed pregnancy tests. He thought I was just obsessed with pregnant women, wanting to give them my congratulations. It worked out well. I got information and a man who adored me, which I desperately needed after being married to this bastard." She nodded toward Vinnie.

"You fucking whore!" Vinnie shouted. "You were cheating on me?"

Lucille sneered at Vinnie. "Get over it, Vinnie. Like I got over you. If it wouldn't have brought shame on my family, I would have left you in the first week. You're such a joke of a husband. Why wouldn't I go get it from a real man?" Put like that, what could Vinnie say?

Preferring to move past the subject of sex in regard to Vinnie or Lucille, I said, "So you found out and then, what, called your dad to get him to take me out of town for a while?"

"Yes, except he didn't live up to his end of the bargain. He was supposed to kill you."

"You planned to kill my cousin?" Vinnie yelled. "Where do you get off doing something like that to _my _family?"

"Shut up, Vinnie," Lucille and I said in unison. He spluttered a second and went silent.

I put my hands on my hips and stared at Lucille. "Why? I'd never done anything to you."

She shook her head. "It had nothing to do with _you _personally. You were pregnant. It was too perfect. I figured chances were good it was Joe Morelli's kid. A good Italian baby, one I was sure you wouldn't want. But I did."

Her reasoning almost made sense to me and I began to wonder if I was crazy, too. She'd thought I was pregnant with Joe's baby. She'd wanted a baby. Even better if it was Italian. "Why did you think I wouldn't want him?"

"I knew what your mother would do if she found out. Tell you to marry him. Anyone who paid attention knew you wouldn't give up your side piece here and there's no way Joe Morelli's pride would've allowed you to keep him." She smiled, but her eyes glazed over. "It was fast. I called Daddy and told him what I wanted. He tried to talk me out of it, but I made him see that it was for the best."

She spit at Vinnie. "I can't have a baby, and no judge in his right mind would let that thing adopt one." And, yet, she'd stolen my baby and subjected him to Vinnie. I wasn't going to think about that right now. "I should have left you. You're nothing but a dud, Vinnie. Can't get it up half the time, not unless you're with some freak." She cringed, as if realizing just how crazy it was to have stayed with him.

I couldn't disagree with her there. Vinnie turned a strange shade of gray and plopped down into one of the Ming chairs. I looked at Lucille. "So, you couldn't get pregnant and you wanted an Italian baby and figured if I didn't want mine why shouldn't you take it from me?"

"Yes. It worked out well until my father failed to kill you."

"Jesus God!" Vinnie said and jumped up from his seat. "Shit! What are you trying to do to me? Get me killed? Ranger's standing right there!" He shouted, gesturing wildly toward my silent, angry man.

Lucille chuckled. "You were so easy, Vinnie." Her face screwed up as if she would cry, and she bit out, "I did what I had to do. I wanted a baby and there was no other way. Daddy set it up so she'd be gone before anyone knew. She could have the baby and then he'd kill her for real." She sneered at Vinnie and I almost felt sorry for him. "Believe just about anything, don't you?"

"You're crazy," Vinnie said in a tired voice. He looked at me. "Take the kid. Do what you want to Lucille. I'm done."

Lucille shrieked and twisted in Ranger's hold. "You can't have him back! He's mine! I worked hard to get him, to keep him. You're not taking him from me!"

"I'll have you committed, you stupid bitch!" Vinnie yelled.

In a feat of superhuman strength, probably fueled by all the crazy, she broke from Ranger's hold and lunged at Vinnie. Before my mind could register seeing it, he pulled a gun out of a drawer in the end table next to the chair and pointed at her.

My heart jumped to my throat. It was a big gun. If he shot her, chances were that Ranger would be hit, too. "Vinnie," I said, trying to get through to him. "Put the gun down."

He didn't hear me. Lucille froze, staring at Vinnie with wide eyes. "You've made my life a living hell ever since our honeymoon. 'Vinnie do this. Vinnie do that. I'll tell Daddy. Daddy will nail your balls to the floor.' That right? Where is he? Huh?" He sounded wild, almost frantic.

Ranger stepped in front of Vinnie, hands up. "Vinnie, let the cops handle her. She's going away for a long time."

None of us were looking at Lucille, but her outraged scream drew our attention. She'd grabbed the sword from the wall and was now running straight at me with it. I had no time to react and then a gunshot rang out. Her eyes opened wide and she fell to her knees, then awkwardly to her side on the floor the floor.

Stunned, I looked at Ranger, but his hand was frozen at his holster, gun half drawn. My eyes flew to Vinnie and he still had his arm outstretched, his hand trembling with the gun still aimed at Lucille. I heard a soft thud and looked at Lucille, now lying lifeless on her back, her eyes still open, sword in her hand, red oozing from the side of her chest. It looked like the bullet must have passed straight through her heart to drop her that fast.

"She wasn't crazy when I met her," Vinnie said quietly. "Maybe I made her that way." He sank down onto the chair, gun dangling from his fingertips.

I wasn't sure what to do. Vinnie had shot his wife. She'd been running to kill me. He'd saved my life. And Carlo? I looked toward the front door.

"Go to the car, babe," Ranger said. I saw him pull out his phone when I turned to look at him. He nodded toward the door. "Go to our son."

I went to the door and looked back at the scene. Vinnie had finally relinquished the gun to Ranger, but his face was nearly as lifeless as Lucille's. I heard him say, "Harry's gonna kill me" as if he were saying he had to go to work.

Ranger said, "You don't have to worry about Harry." Then I walked outside. Out of the house of crazy into the muggy Florida heat and looked toward the SUVs and the rest of my life. Oh God. He was there. In the truck. With Lula. He was all mine now. Mine and Ranger's without interference.

I ran across the street, wanting to get away from the mess in Vinnie's house, but even more desperate to get to the truck. Finally, I'd have Carlo in my arms.


	28. Chapter 28

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

_A/N: Only two left and I might decide to combine chapters 29 and 30 since 30 is just an epilogue. We'll see. Either way, I'm planning posting chapter 29 on Thursday and 30 on Saturday if I don't combine them. If I combine, it might be Friday for the final chapter! Thanks so much everyone. I hope you enjoy the end!_

...

Chapter 28

I ran past the SUV Ranger and I had ridden in and screeched to an abrupt halt when Tank opened the door and said, "Steph, he's here."

He stood outside the back passenger side door and I walked awkwardly toward him, forcing myself to breathe slowly. "Okay."

I nodded and looked at the open doorway. He stepped back and said, "Go on. Cute kid. Lula's already half in love."

"I heard that," Lula's voice called from within, only it was in sing-song style, the way some people talk to babies.

"Oh God," I whispered. In some ways I wasn't ready for this, in others, I couldn't wait. The _thought _of seeing him evoked memories and regrets about what I'd missed, how much of me he'd missed, I didn't know if I could handle them all. On the other hand, knowing he existed had created a physical hole inside of me I hadn't understood until now.

"You'll be fine," Tank said softly.

I climbed into the truck and sat beside Lula. Carlo was just as I remembered him, if not a little bigger and fuller. He'd continued to gain weight, as babies do. His little round cheeks were dimpled from his gummy smile. Wide, bright blue eyes stared around, stopping at shiny objects and Lula's colorful pocketbook. Chubby baby fingers clutched at her shirt. He was utterly and completely real.

"Steph, I have to say. You and Batman made one hell of a little man here." She was smiling about as big as a person could and not split her face in half. "His hair's so soft and he's got Batman's skin. Damn, you're gonna have to lock this boy up when he's older."

I shook my head. Trust Lula to grow him up overnight. "Can I have him?"

"All you had to do was say so, girl! Here, little man," she said, lifting him up and passing him over to me. "Go charm your momma."

I settled him in my arms, front to front so I could look at him and my throat convulsed with the effort to hold off a sob. Shit. Mom. I was his mom. I had to take care of him. No, that wasn't it. More like … wow. I was _allowed_ to take care of him.

Carlo and I stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then he reached up and touched my cheek. I hadn't realized I was crying until his fingers interrupted the flow of my tears. He brought the other hand up to the opposite side and pulled my face toward him, touching his mouth to the tip of my nose.

I laughed, said, "Eww", and leaned back to rub away the moisture. He smiled at me and then laid his head against my shoulder with his grasping fingers tangling at the hair resting along the base of my neck. He seemed at peace, almost as if he remembered me. I had no idea what a baby would or could remember.

Like in my dream, I lifted his little hand and put it over my nose, kissing his wrist. His fingers flexed and curled around the ski slope tip and I could feel his soft nails scraping gently on the skin. He hefted a little sigh and tugged my hair. I smiled. Just like his father.

Tank reappeared with an infant seat and a suitcase. "Lester and I grabbed some clothes and his car seat. We're going to a hotel to keep things quiet and calm for you and the baby. Ranger will come when he's done."

It took a few minutes, but he secured the base unit into the center of the back seat and snapped the carrier in, then looked at me.

"What?"

"Strap him in."

"I don't know how!"

He grinned and shook his head. "Just try it out."

I disentangled Carlo's fingers from my hair and laid him in the seat. I looked at the buckles and latches and slipped his arms through, snapped in the metal prongs, and clipped the chest clip. "Okay, he's in."

Tank silently reached in and tugged on a small strap protruding from the seat between Carlo's feet and adjusted the chest clip. "Has to be snug."

I eyed him. "How do you know?"

"Got two nephews."

He shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat and took off down the road. He drove us to a Westin in what seemed like the center of town and when we got to my room, he put the suitcase on a luggage stand and produced a bottle from another bag I hadn't seen. I had Carlo out of his seat lying on the bed. His short terry cloth covered legs kicked out and he made pleasant gurgling noises. My God he was sweet.

"Do you need any help?" Tank asked.

"No, I've got it." Even if I didn't remember being a mother, I had taken care of Lisa before and I knew the basics. Tank had requested a bassinet from the hotel for Carlo and it was set up near the bed. With the exception of Ranger being gone, we had everything we needed.

I took him to the bathroom and filled the sink with warm water that felt good to my elbow. Lisa usually got sleepy after her bath and, even though I'd love the chance to play with my son, it was the middle of the night and he needed sleep. Tank handed me some soft washcloths from the suitcase and a bottle of baby wash.

Carlo was a bath master. He slapped his hands against the water, and smiled while I cleaned him up and talked to him. I told him about my parents, his cousins, my sister and Kloughn, the Rangemen, and all about Ranger. Every touch on his silky skin made tears pop up in my eyes. He was so sweet, so soft, so innocent. What we'd endured with Adriano made me appreciate him that much more.

Bath done, I wrapped him in a towel and took him out to the bed to put on a fresh diaper. Lula—who knew she could be so domestic?—had a bottle ready for him. We settled into a big, fluffy chair by the window and I fed him. I noticed that his eyes were shaped more like Ranger's, even if the color matched mine. He stared at me as he drew on the bottle, his eyelids lowering more and more until they were closed and the sucking motion stopped. I tucked him into the bassinet and stretched out on the edge of the bed, stretching my arm out so my hand could stroke his silky hair.

I woke when the door clicked and figured it was Tank and Lula leaving. When I opened my eyes, the room was dark and Carlo and I were alone. I nearly panicked, but then I sensed Ranger's presence in the room.

He came over to the bed and sat on the edge by my knees. I clicked on the bedside lamp and he leaned over and kissed me. It was full of emotions I'd never felt him give off before and I wasn't sure I could identify them all. Certainly, he was happy. Fatigue and love were there. Beneath it all, I recognized the unidentified element as a nervous tension.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"All settled," he said, all the while looking at his son. Oh, that was it. Even though he was already a parent, he had never actively been involved in a baby's life. He was in the service when Julie was born and by the time his tour was over, so was the marriage. She was practically a teenager now and not a part of his life. That was by design, though, the way he'd talked in the past made me think he'd like to change it, but didn't know how. Perhaps Carlo could help him bridge that gap.

He leaned forward, studying Carlo for several minutes. Then he reached out with a finger to trace it down the baby's soft cheek. Carlo stirred, his sleep-flushed face wiggling beneath the finger, and Ranger spoke to him in Spanish, his voice soft and gravelly. The words were close enough to Italian that I mentally translated what he said into: "_Go back to sleep. You're safe._"

Carlo settled back to sleep, as if by magic, and Ranger turned to me. "He's a good baby."

"He looks like you." I sat up and hugged him. "What happened with Vinnie?"

"Jail." He'd killed his wife, so of course he'd be in jail, but he'd also saved my life. Vinnie was a pest, but he was also a victim in all of this. "I'll help him however I can, but he'll serve time."

I nodded. "So what now?"

Ranger pulled back and looked at me in sincerity with the hint of a smile on his face. "Figure it out together."

Love and happiness melded into a squishy spot in my heart. I kissed him, pouring all of that emotion into it. He laid me back down on the bed and kissed his way down my neck and I pushed up on his shoulders. "Ranger, there's a baby _right _there."

"Babe, he's only four months old. He's asleep. And we both need this."

That was reason enough for me. Dear God, how much I needed it.

The next morning, I woke to no sign of Ranger or Carlo. I sat up lightning fast in the bed and looked out the window to the ocean. The curtains had been drawn. Ranger's cap sat on the desk across the room from the bed. The baby stuff was all here. I laughed and shook my head at myself. Apparently, I didn't wake up on the carefree side of the bed with a baby in my life now. That was a fast change.

The door opened and I pulled the sheet up to my chin. Ranger came in with Carlo in his arms. The baby had a hold of his bottom lip and Ranger, again, was silently staring at him.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Morning," he said around baby fingers. He looked at me, his eyes softening at the edges. He was happy, but I detected Business Ranger was in the house.

"What's going on?"

"Going home."

I climbed out of bed and dug through my suitcase for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "When do we leave?"

"Soon as you're ready."

Quickly, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. "Where did you go?" I asked when I saw that he'd followed me into the room.

He looked away briefly and then back to me. "I needed to see Tank."

I grinned knowingly at him. "Needed his baby expertise?"

"Babe." I took that to mean 'yes'.

After my shower, I dressed and went out to see that Ranger had changed Carlo into a t-shirt and baby jeans. Ranger had also changed into everyday wear — the stuff normal people wore, that is. We would look like a regular family flying home. Well, except that the dad was incredibly muscled and well-defined in a skin tight t-shirt as opposed to most dads who wore looser clothing to hide the slightly rounded stomachs they'd grown over time. I had a feeling Ranger was the type of dad who _wouldn't _let himself go. Holy Hell, I was a lucky woman.

"Keep looking at me like that and Carlo will get an early life education."

"Yikes."

Two hours later, I held Carlo on my lap during the flight. That is, when someone didn't swipe him from me. Between the guys, Lula, and me, he wasn't short of seating options. Lester had smiled at him, but Ram had seemed shell shocked.

"That's it," Lula announced before handing him back to me. "I'm in love. Sorry, Tank. There's a new man in my life and he has the cutest cheeks ever." She looked down at Carlo and said in a higher pitch, "I wanna squeeze 'em. I just wanna squeeze 'em."

He flashed her a wide, gummy grin and Tank and Lula smiled at each other for a long time over his head. _Uh oh_, I thought. I glanced at Ranger and saw nearly the same expression in his eyes. "Maybe Carlo will have a friend soon," he whispered.

I pressed my forehead to his bicep and smothered a grin. "Don't make me laugh, they'll know what we're talking about."

We took time to really talk about the future and how we wanted to handle it as a family. It seemed weird to use that word in reference to us, but it's what we were now and it felt right. Especially now that we'd met Carlo.

…

When we landed, Tank dropped us off at our hotel and we got ourselves settled and the baby gear set up. We finished just before eleven and I looked at Ranger. "If we hurry, we can make it to my parents' for lunch."

"Good plan, babe. After, we'll need to head to Rangeman. I want to fill everyone in on what we're going to do and about your job."

We changed in record time. Even Carlo was ready faster than I'd expected. Either Camila was still imparting her wisdom on me or I was more of a natural with babies than I thought.

"Ready for this?" I asked when we were all loaded up in the Cayenne. We had to take it to accommodate Carlo's infant seat.

Ranger grimaced. "This is going to be messy."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Ranger didn't do messy, but it couldn't be helped where my family was concerned. "I know."

Too soon, we were there in front of the house. My mother came out to the porch with a smile on her face.

I climbed out and Ranger came around and opened the back door. He pulled the seat out and my mother's jaw dropped when he turned around. "Oh my God … FRANK!"

Ranger lifted an eyebrow at me. I smiled over at him and winked. "At least you excel in cleaning up messes."

…

"I need a drink," my mother said later after we'd relayed the whole story about Carlo's existence, kidnapping, and retrieval. She got up from her chair and went to the kitchen. That was another thing that changed since I've been gone. She used to drink in private, now she was announcing it. I wasn't sure whether or not to be concerned and wondered if I should follow her, but decided to give her a few minutes to digest everything.

My father, however, looked at Carlo the way he always looked at mom's famous lasagna. Eager, only without the knife and fork. "Fine looking boy," he said and looked at me. "Make sure you raise him right. Baseball games, American cars, and spending time with his Pop."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Ranger said, reaching over to lace his fingers with mine. It struck me how surreal the moment was. Time had passed and changed the people I knew and loved, but I couldn't be upset with the end result now. How could I be with Carlo and Ranger in my life?

Ranger had accompanied me to several meals over the years and my father barely gave him a passing glance. Now he was staring at him in a way I'd never seen him look at anyone. It was disturbing. Without looking away from Ranger, Dad said to me, "Go talk to your mother, pumpkin." Uh oh.

I squeezed Ranger's hand and went to the kitchen with Carlo. I didn't want to know what my dad was going to say to Ranger. My mother was seated on her footstool with the bottle of Four Roses on the floor between her feet. She had her head down, her elbows on her knees, and her hands laced loosely together in front of her as she leaned against the cupboard where she kept her pots.

"Hey," I said and sat down in the wooden chair by the back door.

"Don't think I'm not happy to have another grandchild," my mother began. Her voice was distant as if she wasn't aware she'd said anything. "A grandson, too."

I propped Carlo up on my shoulder and kissed the satiny skin of his neck, breathing in his scent. Amazing how quickly I adapted to that habit.

"I missed everything," she said. "All of it: pregnancy, giving you advice to help you feel better through morning sickness, and the chance to see for myself if Ranger is right for you."

I practically did a double take at her statement. "What does me having a baby have to do with Ranger being the right one?"

She leveled a look at me. "Stephanie, you can tell a lot about a man when he goes through the childbirth experience. I don't know him. He never talks." She sighed. "A mother should be there for her daughter, especially when she has a baby. And gets kidnapped. For God's sake, Vinnie had to save your life!"

Seeing my mother's vulnerability would have made me feel embarrassed for her before. It seemed emotional moments were a new habit and another thing I'd need to get used to in my changed world.

"Mom," I said, getting up and bending to grab her bottle of whisky. "You didn't let me down or fail me." I put the liquor back into the cupboard where she kept it and handed her the baby. She looked even smaller than normal sitting on the 12-inch high stool, knees bent, and legs over to the side in a ladylike position.

Her blue eyes looked over her grandson's face, a soft smile playing on her lips. "He really is a handsome little boy, Stephanie." She smiled wider and blew a raspberry on his cheek. "No one can deny you make beautiful children."

"Child, mother. A beautiful _child_."

She let my comment go. "What are your plans now that you have a child's welfare to consider?" Leave it to my mother to find a way to push marriage and that's exactly where we were headed.

"Oh, I can go back to my job at Rangeman easily enough. Vinnie closed up shop, so bounty hunting is out unless Sebring wants to hire me." I resisted a laugh when I saw my mother's shoulders stiffen and her back go ramrod straight. I figured she must not know that Rangeman did bonds now. "I'm sure I could keep him with me at work as long as Ella's there to help out." I didn't say that I'd be working from 'home' in Washington D.C. or that Ella lived there, too.

"Stephanie, I understand your need to work and make your mark on the world. But taking a baby into that office with all those men wearing guns?" She held Carlo up and I took him while she got to her feet, then promptly took him back and pointed a finger toward the living room. "What about Ranger? What are your plans with him? You have a child together now."

"Yes, we've been discussing things."

"And?"

I sighed. Here I didn't have to tease. Was I holding out for a ring? Maybe not. Did I want a more stable life now that Ranger and I had a kid? Yes. "I'm not sure. I'll keep you posted."

"Stephanie…"

My groan cut her off. "For once, mom, let it be good enough that we're madly in love and staying together. Permanently. Okay?"

"Doesn't he want to get married?"

"Mother!" Exasperated didn't begin to cover how I felt. I'd been gone for ten months, she'd thought I was dead, and now she was pushing marriage. As usual. "I know you want me to be happy. Read my lips: I am happy. Incredibly so. Ranger and I will figure out our future _together_."

She nodded and stroked Carlo's cheek. "I won't bring it up again. You know how I feel and, while I don't understand it, I know how you feel. I don't like it, but I'll respect it." She kissed Carlo's head and murmured to him in a soft whisper. "He's sweet."

"Yes." And he was. I'd heard him whine just once and it was because he'd been woken from his nap when the plane landed. At least Vinnie and Lucille had taken good care of him. "We have to go in a few minutes. We have business stuff to take care of and I want to say goodbye to a friend before he leaves town."

"Okay. Dinner tonight?"

"Sure." I took a deep breath and said, "Invite Val, Albert, and the girls. They can meet Carlo."

"I will."

We stared at each other for a few heartbeats and then we simultaneously hugged each other with Carlo in the middle. "All right, we've got to get a handle on this emotional stuff," I said.

She laughed and drew in a shuddering breath. "I'd better make a cake for tonight, then." Now this was normal: food instead of feelings.


	29. Chapter 29

_Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes._

…

Chapter 29

Ranger and I decided to visit Seppe first. His flight was scheduled for this evening and we'd been at my parents' longer than I'd anticipated. I wanted to personally thank him for his help, as well as let him see that Carlo was alive and healthy. I knew, thanks to Camila's memories, that'd he'd want to say goodbye to his little surrogate grandchild.

"Thank you for everything. We'll meet again someday."

"Yes, we will."

I hugged him and then he and Ranger shook hands before we said goodbye and left his room. On the way back to Rangeman, I asked, "What did my dad say to you?"

He gave an almost indiscernible lift of his shoulders. "Settled a few things. No worries, babe. I still have all of your favorite parts."

I gave him 'the look' and he shook his head. "He wants to know when I'm going to make an honest woman of you. Don't worry, I didn't make any promises, but I did tell him what we've already decided." What did that mean, exactly?

There was no time to ask because we reached the Rangeman office and pulled into the garage. When we walked onto the fifth floor with a little mini Ranger in tow, the men were more than surprised, to say the least. I think their initial reaction was because it was strange to see a baby in this place, but then Cal approached us and asked, "Who's this little guy?"

I smiled at him. "This is Carlo. He's our son."

"Whoa," he said, taking a step back. He looked from me, to Carlo, to Ranger, then Carlo, and back to me again. "He really is."

The rest of the guys displayed equal shock, then rallied around to congratulate us. We gave them the five minute version of the story and then Ranger made a short formal announcement of our immediate plans.

On the plane, Ranger and I discussed our future, mostly where we'd live. One thing was certain: we had to return to D.C. until his military contract was up, which was another two years and some change. He ended the talk with saying, "Stephanie will be back in Trenton as often as possible. Her family will want to see Carlo and she has friends here. I'll join her when I can. We'll return as a family to Trenton when my term is up. Until then, Tank is still in command here."

"As a family. That mean you're getting hitched?" Lester asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"All possibilities are under consideration." This was news to me. We hadn't discussed marriage. Living arrangements had been at the top of the list and every other subject had been avoided.

…

For the next week, Carlo and I stayed in Trenton with my parents. Ranger had to report back with his commanding officer and I needed a little time to be home before I left again. My bruises faded until they were almost nonexistent and I felt like I could be in public without people staring at me. I don't know what the big deal was, really. Everyone should have been used to me having bruises by now given my history.

Watching Ranger get on the plane was the hardest thing I'd done since, well, finding out I was a mother. Even waking up and discovering that I was in Paris and finding out later that I was dead wasn't as hard as letting him go. I wasn't 'needy' or dependent on him. He was just such a part of who I was now and being apart was like losing good air quality. Trenton life kept me busy enough so I didn't dwell on his absence. Too much.

Of course, news about Lucille and Vinnie spread through the Burg faster than a California wildfire. I couldn't go anywhere without someone stopping me to ask for a detailed account of what happened. I didn't feed their gossip and they didn't need me to do it anyway since their imaginations were telling the story far better than I could.

Another rumor spread about Harry's house being emptied and the contents going up for auction. No one in Trenton had seen or heard from Harry for at least a week, so _everyone_ was saying that he'd gone crazy when he found out about Lucille and left town. I figured the real answer was far more gruesome, but I wasn't going to ask Seppe what happened. Knowing his sense of justice, he'd tell me thinking I wanted to know all of the details, and really I was fine not knowing the actual truth.

I'd finally had time earlier in the week to call Jean Philippe and Elise. I told them about Carlo and promised to send pictures. I also found out their son's name was Philippe Michel and got as many details about him as possible, then I had them fax pictures to Seppe.

"There are no guarantees," I said. "But my friend is willing to do what he can to see if he can find out anything. If anyone has the connections needed to look into his disappearance, this man does."

"Stephanie, we do not know what to say," Elise said. Her voice was husky and I felt horrible that she was fighting tears, and hoped it wasn't because this was too painful for her. "After all this time…" No words were necessary. We both understood what it meant to them and how much they wanted to know the truth.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything," I said. We said our goodbyes and, as I hung up, I thought about how Ranger and I would definitely have to visit them soon and introduce them to Carlo.

I finally got to take Eddie out last night to celebrate his promotion. The meeting had been bittersweet. First, he'd _hugged _me, and then he'd told me all of the cop shop gossip I'd missed out on.

"I couldn't even drive by your old apartment building without feeling sad." He laughed and gave a small snort. "Crazy how many side streets I took so I could avoid yours."

"Sorry, Eddie."

"Hey, I'm just glad you're alive. Who else would take me out for pizza and a beer?"

Joe even made a trip back to the Burg from the City. He'd heard I was alive and wanted to come see for himself personally that I was okay. His bear hug practically cracked my spine. It was good to see him again, and to see him so happy.

Carlo was a shock to him. Luckily, he resembled Ranger enough that there were no awkward questions to answer. I was glad because that conversation with Joe would have taken more energy than I cared to give.

He told me he was engaged to a woman who kicked his ass more than I ever did. Guess he'd always been a sucker for women with attitude. The similarities ended there. Apparently she is a domestic goddess who dotes on him. I had to smile at that. Joe and I both ended up with exactly what we needed.

Tonight, Carlo and I were dressed for dinner, waiting for Ranger. I'd gotten a hotel room for us because I couldn't imagine having sex in my parents' house. And after a week of separation? No way.

Tonight would be the first meal with just the three of us and I was incredibly happy. We were a family and we were sharing the rest of our lives together.

Carlo dazzled me with a baby smile as we sat in an armchair waiting for Ranger when I heard the front door open. Baby and mom both swung our heads toward the noise and Carlo gave Ranger a big grin.

"Hey, little man," he said, smiling back at Carlo as he set his briefcase down and began unbuttoning the jacket of his uniform. "Hey," he said, looking at me.

I smiled at him. "Not wearing that for dinner?"

Ranger tilted his head a little and said, "Why, you like it?"

I laughed. "Sure, I like it, but I'd rather have you comfortable and not holding your shoulders at attention all night."

"Small favors," Ranger said and began to strip. Of course, I had to watch. You can't be in the room with that many ripples and bumps and not look.

My voice was husky when I said, "You didn't have time to change?"

"Didn't want to be late." He stopped unbuckling his pants and looked at me. "Am I late?"

Try as I might, I couldn't get my eyes to stay focused on his. They kept straying down to where his hands had frozen at his zipper. It's a good thing he was all mine or I'd be completely screwed.

"Babe."

My eyes flew up to his and I felt my cheeks warm up. "Sorry. Uh, no. Not late. Just on time."

I was rewarded with one of Ranger's lady killer smiles. He turned and walked across the room to us and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of his bare chest and the triangle of hot male flesh exposed by the open zipper of his pants. When he reached us, he sank to his knees and lifted Carlo out of my arms. I was always slightly mesmerized by seeing the two of them together. Carlo mirrored as much of Ranger as was humanly possible without actually being him. In the dim light, I couldn't see the baby's blue eyes, they looked almost as dark and fathomless as his father's.

Ranger lifted Carlo up to his face and planted a kiss on his cheek, then tucked him into his side and, together, they looked at me.

"Uh oh," I said.

"What?"

"I'm in trouble. You two are dangerous together. I can see it now. When he's in high school, the teen girls will be drooling over him and their moms will be drooling over you."

Ranger had moved closer and closer while I spoke. I scooched back in the chair and he invaded every inch I'd opened. He now had me trapped against the back with his chest hovering dangerously close to touching mine, close enough that even the slightest breath would bring us into contact. His lips were close enough that I could feel their warmth tingling against mine. I'm not sure how he accomplished it with a baby in his arms, but he had and Carlo looked like he was having fun gnawing on Ranger's shoulder. "Babe, they can drool all they want, you're the only one who can touch."

For some reason, I wanted to cry. It was the perfect thing to say in some ways, and in others, the wrong thing to say. Our talks of the future had always ended with a 'we'll work it out' statement. Call me sentimental, but I wanted him to say _just once _exactly what he wanted from me. Even if all he wanted was to cohabitate in unmarried bliss, I'd be happier knowing that than trying to guess. Curious people do not do well with guessing games.

"What just went through your mind?"

Nuh-uh. Not going there. "I was just thinking about how good it sounds. You having eyes only for me, that is."

"Liar."

I gasped and tried to move back, but the chair had no give and Ranger was always one to take any advantage he could.

"Tell me what you were thinking."

"Tell me what you want from me."

Now he pulled back, just a little, to look at me, face stoic, eyes shielded. Giving himself time to formulate a reply without me seeing where his thoughts were going. He knew I carefully watched them for any nuances to alert me to his feelings, especially if I couldn't guess his actual thoughts.

Slowly, his face broke and he smiled, eyes warming up to full-blown love, lingering on mine. "Everything, Stephanie. I want everything from you."

My breathing rate increased. What did he mean by everything?

As if he heard my thoughts, and maybe he had, he said, "I want you naked beside me, under me, over me every night in our bed. I want to build a life with you for our son, for us. And I want you to give up your last name."

"Oh."

He pulled my left hand up to his mouth and kissed the tip of each finger, never looking away, waiting.

I wanted the words, so I said, "Well, I guess I could go to the courthouse and fill out the paperwork to change my last name. Which one do you want me to have?" I wanted to congratulate myself on not cracking even a small smile.

Instead of teasing back, Ranger stood and walked over to Carlo's bassinet. He laid the baby down and returned to me, taking my hands in his and pulling me up to stand in front of him.

"Let me do this again." Very slowly, he lowered himself to the floor to one knee. "I'm an idiot. No, I've been an idiot. Before." He swallowed and looked down at our hands. When had he taken my hands in his? My heart began to thud loudly, the way hearts do when 'the' moment comes. I hoped I didn't pass out on him.

When he looked back up, I couldn't swear to it, but I thought his eyes were moist. "I lost you, in the worst way. Forever. I don't know what I did or how I did it, but I got another chance. With you. Got to see your smile again, touch your skin. Kiss you."

Hearing such a speech from him was almost painful, but I'd wanted the words and there was no way I'd stop him now.

"Now I want to keep you in the best way. Forever. I know we've never talked about it, but I'd finally have everything if you married me and I'd spend the rest of my life showing you how happy I am."

Suddenly, I didn't want to do this on unequal ground. Ranger didn't have to lower himself below me to propose. We were partners and I wanted to start this thing out right, on the same level. So I dropped down to my knees and looked into his eyes. "Okay, but only because you said forever."

We kissed and kissed some more. And then Carlo started to cry. It was the first time I'd heard him really cry and I sat up. "He's hungry."

Ranger groaned. "So am I." But he was smiling. "We might as well eat because you're going to need energy. I missed you."

And that was one of the many reasons I loved him. He was so good to my hormones.

…

Epilogue

I sat on the perfectly manicured lawn enjoying the scent of the pink, purple, and yellow freesias that had grown from the bulbs I'd planted last fall. Today, I weeded the bed and aerated the soil and the smell of warm earth mingled with the heady floral scent. It reminded me of springtime at Grandma Mazur's house when I was a girl. She'd taught me to plant flowers and how to help them survive.

"We're like these flowers, Stephanie. Colorful, resilient, and fast growers." She'd leaned back and admired them, her gloved hands crusted with mud. Then she'd looked at me and said, "But just like them, we can't sit in stagnant water, we need good drainage. Don't let the crap of life drown you. Learn how to let it go. It's the best advice this old woman can give a young girl with a free spirit."

"Okay. How do I do that?" My ten year old self had asked.

"Don't dwell on the small stuff, just keep moving forward. Living in the Burg — well, you're going to see a lot of useless crap. Just remember not to let it take you down. And if you ever feel like it is, just come see me and I'll help chase away the crazies." She'd smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye and an expression full of love and understanding.

I turned to her headstone and smiled. "You were right, Grandma. Good drainage makes for a happy life." I leaned down and smelled one of the purple blooms nearest where I sat. "A lot's happened since the last time I came to see you."

With my eyes closed, I told her about life in Washington D.C. "You'd love to visit the base. All those men in uniform… On second thought, I think I'd have to keep you as far away from them as possible for their peace of mind." I laughed. "You always did love the effect you had on men."

I told her about married life and how it only made my relationship with Ranger better. "It's been a year and I'm still really happy we did it. Who'd have guessed? I'll never be like mom, even when we move back to Trenton, but I can handle this type of domestication. Of course, the minute Ranger asks me to cook…" I laughed. There was no way he ever would. Not if he didn't want to be loaded down with extra grease, sugar, and carbs. No, I was pretty safe from that request.

I explained about hiring Connie to manage the bail bonds side of Rangeman and my mother, of all people, deciding she needed some excitement and offering to be the receptionist and file clerk. Lula had moved on from bond enforcement into full-time motherhood. Little Deon was almost nine months old now and already showing signs of his dad's height and breadth. Domestic life completely suited Lula. She'd actually become quite the star baker, but I didn't tell my mother or Ella. Lula's chocolate cake could reduce me to tears.

The phone call Ranger received two weeks ago came to mind. "Marco, the one who was with me when I was kidnapped, is alive. Ranger finally tracked him down. The bastards at his organization never got back to us." I'd talked about him before on my visits. Sure, it was silly to think she could actually hear me, but it was nice to talk to her nonetheless. I held onto everything of her that I could, especially now.

"In fact, they covered up the fact that he was alive, but somehow—there's a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy in my marriage—Ranger found out about it. Turns out the shot to the head ricocheted off his skull and only grazed his skin. The second shot barely missed his heart and passed straight through. He was incredibly lucky Adriano was such a bad shot, even at close range."

I looked down at the flowerbed and saw a weed I'd missed, so I pulled it up. "Ranger was a little concerned about telling me he was alive. He didn't say so, but I could tell. He doesn't like the fact that Camila was in love with him. I think he's afraid something could trigger her to resurface, but I know it won't. She and I have an understanding. Well, if that's possible. I know she's not real and I guess you could say she knows it. My brain just has to keep remembering it. But you know how stubborn I am."

I looked over the cemetery at the setting sun and then looked up at the tulip tree that guarded her grave. "Mom and dad really found you the best spot in the joint. Your favorite kind of tree is here and you're on a hill. Okay, so it isn't a huge hill, but it's still a hill. And you have the best view of the early evening sun. Today's is amazing. The clouds are purple and hot pink and orange." I laughed. "They remind me of you!"

The smile faded and a sober expression replaced it. I raised my hand to the stone to trace my fingertip over the letters of her name. "I miss you." I drew in a deep breath and smelled the freesias again. Her favorite flower, the scent of her perfume. I could feel her near me on these spring days when they were in bloom.

Another scent wafted across the air. Bvlgari. I smiled when I heard footsteps approaching in the grass. "You'd better have a good reason for sneaking up on me."

There was a smile in his voice when he said, "I'm just walking, babe."

I turned my head and looked up at Ranger. The sun behind him cast a shroud of light around him, making him seem like a god in a pair of black dress slacks and a red button up shirt with three of the buttons undone. "Mmm, why do you always look so incredible?"

He crouched down before me with his elbows on his knees. "_You_ look incredible, babe." The 200 watt smile was full on at this point.

"Thank you." I raised my hand up for him to help me stand.

His arms came around me and pressed me against his body after he'd tugged me to my feet. "About ready to go?"

I kissed him and said, "Yes. Hey, I was thinking earlier."

"Dangerous."

Ignoring him, I continued, "What do you think of Elise Karolina Mañoso?"

Okay, so we'd decided to have one more kid. I could never get over the fact that I missed everything with Carlo. As much as I tried, I could never remember anything about my pregnancy. Gotta say that I'm happy I don't remember the delivery—that is until I remember I'm going to do it again and have no clue what I'm doing. Ranger and I realized we were in a good place to have kids if we were going to do it and, after much debate, decided it was now or never. I'm only halfway through and already wonder what I was thinking. I'd been glad to miss out on the crappy parts of having a kid, hadn't I?

He flicked his eyes to Grandma Mazur's headstone and lowered his hands to my slightly rounded belly. "Think giving her the same middle name as your grandma is wise?"

A hummingbird caught my attention as it flitted above a pink freesia bloom at the corner of Grandma's headstone. "Oh, I think it will be fine. She's bound to have some of Grandma's mischief in her anyway."

Ranger shook his head and gave a short laugh. "As long as I never hear her say the word 'package'. Guns at the dinner table are banned, too."

"You? Banning guns?" I whistled. "Anything else?"

"Now that you mention it. Leather, thongs, and—"

"Shh," I said and kissed him again. "How about if we just let her be herself?"

He smiled at me with so much love in his face it made my heart hurt. "I'd like that."

…

_A/N: That's it. The end. There's no more to tell, my friends. Thanks so much for reading and a special thanks to those of you who kept me going with your reviews. I WILL respond to them all and I'm sorry I'm so far behind. The holidays have been incredibly hectic._

_I should put a note in here for all of those who are in the "Stephanie wouldn't want to have kids" camp. In general, I agree. And I debated a lot about having the second one, but it seemed right due to the circumstances of Carlo's whole existence. They missed a lot and I decided to give them a chance to experience it all together. I will say that it almost didn't happen, but I just decided to go with it because it fit the story. Luckily, you can do that in alternate reality. :)_

_I've said it before and I'll say it again: This story would be sitting on my computer very messy and jumbled up if it weren't for Rach. Her attention to detail and butt-kicking abilities have been the keys to the release of this thing. Rach, I have to say that for all the times I got grumpy with you or wanted to throw in the towel, you've put up with a lot from me, but I wouldn't have changed a thing about what you did for me and this story. I'll go on record and say you were right, even if we're the only ones who know exactly what that means. :) Thanks so much. There aren't enough words for my gratitude and even if there were, I'm not sure this is where I'd type them. Babe, you're one in a million._


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